


Tell Me How

by Jadells, LPSunnyBunny



Series: To Build a Home [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Chance Meeting, Daddy Kink, Dom/sub, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, POV Alternating, Panic Attacks, Past Child Abuse, Past Homophobia-Based Violence, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Relationship(s), Past Sexual Abuse, Past Suicide Attempts, Post-breakup, Suicidal Thoughts, They're both Verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:07:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 134,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24265594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jadells/pseuds/Jadells, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LPSunnyBunny/pseuds/LPSunnyBunny
Summary: Five years ago, Karkat Vantas was ghosted by his boyfriend of two years, Dave Strider. He tried to move on, tried to get over him, but out of the blue, on a day like any other, Dave reappears.
Relationships: Dave Strider/Karkat Vantas
Series: To Build a Home [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1835206
Comments: 16
Kudos: 180





	1. Chapter 1

Dave likes to think that he is, at the very least, marginally more put together these days than he used to be.

Through some kind of miracle, Dave made it to college. Maybe it was a couple of years late, but he thinks he can hardly be blamed for that, considering his circumstances. He has a job and, however kind of bizarre his boss is and strange it looks to outsiders, it keeps him fed and that's pretty fucking sweet. Sure, he might spend his days drifting a bit, not really anywhere here or there, but that's fine. He's got some friends online and his roommates are tolerable in vastly different ways and he gets enough human contact to not lose his mind so he's fine.

Really.

It's not like he's spent the last... several years in a haze. Days blur together in endless grey smears, broken only with splotches of color here and there. It's fine, though. It's not anything he doesn't deserve. Dave might be more put together now, but he's barely a functional human being on his _good_ days. That's probably how it should be, though. He doesn't really deserve that much. He's got a couple of friends and he's in school and he's finally trying to piece his life back together and that should be good enough for him. He really shouldn't go reaching for more, shouldn't try and grab at something he doesn't deserve- it'll only bring everything tumbling down around him.

He's been going to college long enough now to know all of the good spots around campus- so here he is now, waiting in a coffee shop that is stupidly packed but it's also the only place that he's found carries the 'winter flavor' syrup all year round instead of seasonally, so here he is, waiting in a way-the-fuck-too-crowded-shop with one earbud in to try and stop himself from nervously bouncing his leg.  
  
He's always hated crowds.

Dave shifts a little, looking down at his phone as he waits for his name to be called. It's still early enough that he shouldn't be in danger of missing his morning class, but- he had really wanted to stop and talk to Professor Maryam about his upcoming essay and ask for an extension before too many people got there. This entire situation is seriously making him consider taking a coffee stir stick and stabbing someone just to make _something_ happen, but he's not a fucking animal so he refrains, rapid-fire flipping through songs instead until he finds one that will let his brain focus on _that_ instead of the sniffling man that is barely a foot away from him and keeps wiping his nose on the back of his sleeve on the arm that _is closest to Dave._

He can't hold it back, his leg starts to bounce impatiently (or maybe anxiously, it's hard to tell), and he shifts to lean against the wall on his other shoulder, nudging his shades up a bit higher on his nose and fussing slightly with his scarf, his only real protection against the late fall morning air.

"Order for Karkat?" The barista calls.

Dave's head snaps up, his throat going tight, eyes wide behind his sunglasses.

No. It couldn't be. No fucking way.

A cold sweat breaks out across his body, a pit opening in his stomach.

 _Karkat_. Here? How? Should he-

Does he _deserve_ to?

His gaze desperately tracks the person nudging their way through the crowded cafe to collect his drink.

 _Karkat_. Dave's tongue is glued to the roof of his mouth. Karkat is going to grab his drink and turn around and see Dave standing _right here,_ right next to the counter with all the extras which Karkat will most definitely come to. Does Dave duck? Does he run, does he open his mouth, say something?

His heart is painful as it slams against his ribs, a dizzying sweat overtaking him.

Oh god. Oh _god_. _Karkat_.

Dave needs to see his face. He _needs_ to. His feet are rooted to the floor, watching Karkat reach out and take his drink.

It’s too fucking early for this.

Karkat is hunched over his phone in a crowded cafe at seven in the goddamn morning, feeling like a sardine trapped in an air-tight can. This cafe is not only one of the best Karkat’s ever been to, it’s also conveniently located a short walk away from campus. Which is exactly why it’s packed with college students, desperately snagging their caffeine fix so they can stay awake through a Monday morning lecture. He’s already been knocked around by overstuffed backpacks on the maximum capacity bus ride here, and it’s no different as he waits off to the side for his order. If anything will stop him from going off at the next insipid shitstain who doesn’t know how the fuck to keep their elbows down, it’s his daily ritual of a large chamomile tea latte with almond milk and a few shots of vanilla.

He wishes he wasn’t so sensitive to caffeine (and dairy, for that matter) but if he wants to actually make it to his class this morning instead of high-tailing it to the nearest bathroom, then he’s better off sticking to what he knows. It doesn’t exactly wake him up, but more importantly it calms him down (and doesn’t make him shit his fucking brains out). He’s scrolling through his playlists on Spotify, one earbud out of his ear so he can listen out for his name, which the baristas actually get right here. Another reason he loves this cafe. It’d be a great place to bring a date, he catches himself thinking, and now he’s scowling even deeper as he thumbs down his phone screen.

It’s not like Karkat doesn’t _want_ to date, but he has...reasons. He’s got a couple dating apps on his phone, but he hasn’t opened a single one for several months, and any conversations he’d been having with some matches usually fizzled out after a few days. He’d been on a couple dates, of course, but they just never went anywhere. Nice enough people, thankfully there hadn’t been any _bad_ dates, just...not right.

He told himself he had to stop comparing. It wasn’t fair to himself, or any of the people he tried to make a connection with. But he just couldn’t help it; he was so easily bored by small talk, and found himself thinking _god whatever, can we just skip all this shit and get to the part where we’re madly in love and everything is easy?_

It didn’t help that whenever someone liked him, it only scared him off. Like, if they put him on a pedestal now, so soon, then he would just fall off it all the sooner. Sure, they like him now, but just you wait, motherfucker. Wait until the honeymoon phase wears off, and you pull the rose-coloured glasses off your face and, oh shit! Look at all these flaws and insecurities! Holy fuck, they’re everywhere! Just look at all--

“Order for Karkat?”

The sound of his name being called breaks Karkat out of the stupid blithering tangent his brain just went down, and thank fucking god for that. His head shoots up, and he shoves his phone into his coat pocket and starts to weave his way through the throng of students, all with their heads so far up their asses and noses buried into their phone screens to even notice someone is trying to get through. He grumbles a few “excuse me’s” under his breath as he shuffles his way up to the counter and spots his cup sitting on the counter, and quickly takes it into his hands. He isn’t worried anyone would mistake it for their own order (his name is too fucking weird for that) it’s just that his hands are still fucking frozen from the walk to the bus this morning and the hot cup feels like heaven on his cold digits.

He turns around, making his way to the counter by the far wall where they keep extra lids and cup sleeves, and of course, what Karkat is after: cinnamon. He pops the lid off his drink as he reaches the counter, and grabs the shaker bottle full of cinnamon, which the lovely amazing incredible baristas who work in this amazing establishment fill to the fucking brim every morning. It’s like they do it just for him. Karkat starts shaking the cinnamon out onto the frothy almond milk on top of his tea latte and only stops when the entire top layer is doused in cinnamon. Perfect.

Karkat places the shaker bottle back on the top shelf of the counter, pops the lid back on his cup, and then brings it up to finally take a sip. As he brings the cup up to his lips, a flash of red catches his eye. A bright candy red scarf, and his eyes follow it up, and up, as he tilts his head back to drink. Cinnamon and steamed milk slide onto his tongue, as his eyes continue to travel upward, until they stop when they see a pair of black shades and a shock of white-blonde hair.

The cinnamon hits the back of Karkat’s throat relentlessly as he tilts his cup too far back, and he jerks the cup away, his nose feeling like he fucking shoved a cinnamon stick up each nostril. He chokes, bringing his hand up to his mouth as his drink goes down the wrong hole, and coughs.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck holy fucking **_MOTHERFUCK---_**

Dave Strider, his ex-boyfriend from fucking high school, who he hasn’t seen or talked to in _five years_ , is standing _right there_ , and Karkat knows even with those fucking mirrored shades that he is _looking right at him._

Which means he totally saw Karkat choke on his latte like the absolute rancorous, putrid dumbfuck he is.

It’s WAY too fucking early for this.

Dave is rooted to the fucking ground. Call him fucking Merlin because he is trapped in fucking tree roots as Karkat turns around and _fuck_ his heart hurts, Karkat is like fucking Nimue casting a spell because Dave could not move even if he tried.

Karkat's- grown up. Of course he did, Dave did too- but Karkat's finally grown into that jawline of his and his shoulders have finally filled out and his nose finally fits properly on his face and Dave needs to stop this line of thought _right fucking now_ before he lets it turn into anything, before he lets it get away from him as his thoughts always do, before he lets his heart leap or get carried away or do any other number of stupid fucking things that it _really really shouldn't_ and oh fucking shit he is **_coming this_** **_way_** and Dave should move- he should go, he should move, leave and go and leave and _go_ and he should **_leave_** -

Dave does none of these things as Karkat steps over, somehow, mercifully not seeing him. Dave watches mutely as Karkat's fingers flip off the top of the drink and he proceeds to douse the top of his drink with an insane amount of cinnamon.

Dave can't. Stop. _Staring_.

He needs to leave before Karkat sees him. Dave doesn't know what he's like these days, but he remembers that Karkat could throw one hell of a punch back in high school and it really must be self-endangerment to just stand here, within punching range, of his (ex, ex, _ex_ -) boyfriend, _ex_ boyfriend, after not a single fucking word for five years.

Maybe Dave should save himself the trouble and call an ambulance right now. He watches mutely as Karkat brings the cup up to his mouth. His soft mouth wraps around the rim and tilts back.

Karkat's gaze meets Dave's. An expression on his face is there for about half a moment before he's coughing and sputtering and putting his drink down, pressing a hand _(don't think about it don't think about it Dave don't think about his fucking hands, about the way they felt in his-_ ) over his mouth as he coughs out cinnamon and sputters.

Somehow, like the biggest fucking tool in the world, all Dave can come up with is, "Don't you know the cinnamon challenge was so 2012?"

Fucking Christ. Can some god out there please take pity on him and just fucking strike him dead on the spot with a lightning bolt. That would be more mercy than he deserves for the words that just came out of his mouth, making him want to die inside.

It takes Karkat a few seconds to stop choking on steamed milk and cinnamon, and then another few seconds to process the fact that Dave’s mouth was moving, and Karkat’s coughing fit tapered off just in time to hear him say…

...some fucking _cinnamon challenge joke??_

Was this motherfucker _SERIOUS_?!

Karkat is feeling so many emotions at once he doesn’t even know which one to focus on. It’s like there’s a movie reel playing at top speed in his mind, playing back every single memory he had of the boy standing in front of him. All his memories come back up on him and he feels like he’s still choking as his throat closes up. His heart is hammering in his chest, and his whole body feels like it’s buzzing from the tremors raking through him. He’s not sure how much time has passed before he finally realizes he’s just been standing here, staring openly at Dave like a complete brainless tool.

Dave got even taller somehow, damn him. Karkat had a massive growth spurt after high school, but Dave still had about an inch of height on him. His cheeks were flushed dark pink from the late fall chill, which made the freckles dappling his skin stand out all the more.

What in the sweet blithering bullfucking CHRIST was he doing?! Karkat commanded his brain to stop thinking about Dave Strider’s stupid fucking cute freckles right that fucking second.

Karkat suddenly feels incredibly hyper aware of what he must look like to Dave right now. Wearing this unflattering gray coat that made him look ten pounds heavier than he actually was, his dorky fucking black knitted hat that had two orange pom-poms on either side on top, his nose running like a leaky faucet from the weather and from his recent choking fiasco. And, god, he probably has _insane_ dark circles and eye bags right now, he barely got any sleep last night because he worked a night shift then had to stay up to finish an assignment, so he’s running on like an hour of sleep right now and it’s written all over his face.

He feels a stray dollop of frothed almond milk going cold on his upper lip, and scrubs it away on the back of his hand, feeling his face getting incredibly hot with shame.

Why? Why now? Why HERE?

Karkat’s racing thoughts slow down like they are suddenly being mixed through concrete, until he’s finally able to settle onto a single emotion. The same emotion he always falls back on, because it’s the easiest.

Anger.

“You...you insufferable...goddamn stupid PRICK!” he shouts, and it sounds about as threatening as a scared dog behind a fence. It also isn’t one of his best when it comes to his unending chain of unique insults. Pretty piss-fucking-poor if he’s being honest. He can do a lot better, but fuck it, he’s kind of been put on the spot here.

There are PLENTY of things he has thought about getting to say to Dave Strider, and he has spent plenty of time daydreaming of this exact scenario. Running into Dave by pure dumb luck, and finally getting to call that asshole the fuck out for everything he put him through, to show him how much better off he is without him. He’d rehearsed what he was going to say and do if that moment should ever come.

And now, here he is, and there HE is. And he’s stumped, his mind is blank. The anger that had bubbled up to the surface left as quickly as it came, and he was left feeling completely numb.

Just like the day Dave Strider broke his heart.

Then his emotions are swirling again, but certain ones flash through his mind, pinpointed. Betrayal. Hurt. Heartache.

Love.

Karkat squeezes his eyes shut tight, but the image of Dave standing there is burned onto the back of his eyelids. He can feel the hot tears welling up in his eyes, as much as he willed them not to appear. He turns away before Dave can see, and hopes he can make it through the crowd and out the door before the worst of it starts. He won’t let Dave hear him sobbing.

Oh god. Everyone is staring and Dave's face is going red and oh GOD he's about to get punched the fuck out and Dave is the stupidest motherfucker in existence-

Karkat's staring at him like he wants Dave _dead_ and yeah that's a fair assessment, if Dave was in Karkat's shoes Dave would be wanting himself pretty dead too, and Dave is bracing for the worst tongue-lashing of his life, the most explosive, two-for-one "you're an asshole _and_ I wish you were dead" lecture from his (ex- fucking, _ex-,_ come on, get it together Strider, stop being a fucking idiot, he's your _ex-_ ) boyfriend _-_

But Karkat... doesn't. His expression _crumples_ and that makes Dave feel like the literal scum of the Earth (which, again, fair, there's not a single week where Dave doesn't think _that_ -).

Karkat turns and pushes his way through the coffee shop and the spell is broken.

Dave strides after him, heart pounding. He- he didn't think he'd ever see Karkat again and he's _already fucking it up._

 _(God, Dave, can you be_ **_any more_ ** _of a fuckup? Bro was right-)_

Dave gets through the door of the cafe and catches up, reaching out and desperately grabbing Karkat's wrist. He doesn't even hesitate, words just _vomiting_ from his mouth in the most messy, sloppy torrent of feelings that have ever existed.

"Karkat, wait, please- fuck I don't know- fuck, please I'm sorry, you have no fucking idea, well, I guess it doesn't really matter because I was an asshole and wow I really should have come up with something better than a fucking _stupid ass joke_ as the first thing to say to you in years, holy shit it's been _years_ -" Dave rocks a bit as he realizes just how long it's been, but his mouth doesn't stop, "-but I know I'm probably the last person you want to see, I know _I'd_ be the last person I'd want to see but fucking christ I just- fuck of course the first fucking thing I'd say to you after all this time would be a shitty fucking _cinnamon challenge joke_ like way to go Strider, just being the biggest fucking asshole of the year over here, after everything I couldn't even start with a simple fucking _Hi_ , I just had to shove my foot right into my fucking mouth and choke on it, making myself out to be an asshole, no I _am_ an asshole-" he finally cuts off his words on a deep inhale, shuddering and jagged.

His hand on Karkat's wrist is bare and gentle- trembling ever so slightly. Even just the slightest tug would break his hold.

Dave forces the words from his throat, choked and shaky. His eyes are burning behind his shades.

"It's- _really_ good to see you. You- you look good."

Karkat keeps his head down as he beelines it for the front door, he doesn’t even have to weave through the crowd of students because they part ways like he’s fucking Moses parting the Red Sea or some shit--god this means they all heard him shouting at Dave, he’d honestly forgotten that he and Dave weren’t the only ones there--

He practically body checks the door open and stumbles out onto the street, feeling his chest constricting painfully as he tries to hold back his tears. He doesn’t dare look back, he just starts down the street towards campus, yanking the other earbud from his ear and shoving it in his pocket. He can’t listen to music right now, his stupid dumb fucking heart will just twist any song into--

Suddenly all forward motion stops as Karkat feels someone grab him by the wrist and yank him to a stop. His heart is jack-hammering his ribs now, he can feel his blood thumping in his face, his breath coming out in clouds in front of his face as he pants even though he hadn’t even been running. He turns around, opening up his mouth to say--he doesn’t know, something, anything, but…

Dave starts talking and Karkat can’t get a word in edgewise. He’s left standing in the middle of the sidewalk, his drink clutched tightly in one hand, his other trapped in Dave’s vice grip. Karkat can feel his hand trembling--or is Karkat himself just shaking so much he can feel it in Dave’s hand?

Karkat blinks rapidly as he tries to process everything spilling out of Dave’s mouth. You spent two years in a relationship with the guy, you tend to get an ear for Dave’s patented rambles. Karkat used to be able to hear every word Dave was saying and reply even while he was playing video games or whatever. He’s shocked he’s still able to do it now, after all this time, despite everything he’s feeling…

Most of it is Dave stumbling, trying to figure out what the hell he even wants to say. He’s _sorry_? Oh, he’s just apologizing about that dumb fucking joke--he’s talking a mile a minute and saying so MUCH and yet--nothing, all at once, god, he’s still on about the cinnamon thing, jesus--

Does he even have any idea how much he hurt him?

Then he’s saying that it’s _good_ to see him. That Karkat _looks good_. Suddenly the hand on Karkat’s wrist feels like it’s burning him, and he jerks his arm away, yanking it out of Dave’s grasp.

“Wh--” Karkat goes to shout something again, but the words catch in his throat. His eyes are burning again, shit. He’s worried if he starts talking that’ll be the end of it, he won’t be able to hold the tears back then.

And yet he HAS to say something, or he’ll regret it forever. How LONG has he waited for this moment? How badly did he want answers, crave some semblance of closure? He never got any. Dave told him it was over, and then he never heard from him again. He blocked his number, and blocked him on every social media site they followed each other on. When Karkat looked up “Dave Strider” he got every other fuckwit on the planet with that name but not the one he was looking for. Dave didn’t just _ghost_ Karkat, he nuked him out of his fucking life like an atomic bomb. He’d even _moved away_ , for fuck sake. Because of course the first thing Karkat did was storm over to Dave’s, ready to demand some fucking answers. But he wasn’t there. He’d fucking vanished. Karkat never got any closure, he had to force himself to move on without it.

It was only in these last couple years he’d finally started feeling like his old self again. But, god, he _still_ has dreams about Dave. And not even sex dreams, they were just...together. Dave was there, and he wanted him back. They were the only dreams he ever remembered, the only ones that felt so vivid and so _real_...and then he would wake up. Just when he thought he was over this, over _him_ , something would remind him of Dave, or he’d dream about him, or--

Or he’d run into him at a coffee shop and have no idea what to fucking say.

“Where…” Karkat can only manage to speak in a voice just above a whisper, “Where have you been?”

Karkat rips his hand back and Dave lets go immediately, hunching his shoulders and taking a half-step back, backing out of Karkat's space. He knows that he doesn't even deserve to be anywhere near Karkat, let alone _touch_ him, but-

His fingertips are tingling, hot and burning where they brushed Karkat's skin under his coat sleeve and Dave wants nothing more than to sink himself into Karkat's arms.

The question was probably to be expected. It doesn't stop Dave from flinching back, though. He doesn't even deserve to explain himself, let alone vomit out the shit he's been though as if it _would_ be an explanation, as if it could justify the hurt he put Karkat through, but-

"It's... a long story." He says quietly, gaze downcast. He picks at the hems of his threadbare shirt, worn and patchy in places. Christ, he's suddenly just so hyper-aware of how _good_ Karkat looks- that coat makes him look strong and sleek and nothing at all like Dave's own, ratty appearance- scuffed shoes and faded jeans with a hole in the knee and no jacket despite the temperature, just an extra layer of thrifted flannel and unraveling threadbare gloves.

"I-" He clears his throat. "I guess you- deserve an explanation." Fuck, Dave would rather _die_ than talk about what happened to him, but- It's _Karkat_. Karkat deserves to at least know why Dave was the biggest, most colossal fuckup that he'll ever know.

A bitter laugh falls out of Karkat’s lips before he can stop it, and the sound of it makes his heart beat even harder, he’s _terrified_ , he’s too messed up right now to have any control over his actions or his words, he’s totally going to say and do a million things right now he’s going to regret later, when the adrenaline wears off.

He latches onto the rage like a life preserve, and it does the trick in clearing his mind. Anger clouded most people’s judgement, made them stupid. Karkat had always found the opposite with his own. Maybe that was unhealthy as shit but in this moment, he didn’t give a shit. He refused to walk away from this moment without being able to look back and say he handled it with some fucking dignity. He owed that to himself, after he let himself spiral all those years ago. He wouldn’t fall apart again.

Now that he’s letting his anger take control, he’s able to focus. He looks over Dave again like he’s doing it for the first time. He never even realized it, but Dave’s not even wearing a jacket. Just a thick, but well-worn flannel, gloves and a scarf. His ears are dark red from the chill. There’s a patch of skin visible on the knee of his jeans that’s getting flushed from being exposed to the cold air, too. His anger almost dissipates at the sight of him--god, isn’t he _freezing_? Karkat had forgotten to wear gloves and his hands were numb on the bus this morning, which already feels like a thousand years ago.

Protective instincts start to kick in, he wants to reach out and pull Dave into his arms and get him warm…

It’s like kicking up sand at the bottom of a clear pond, suddenly his mind is murky again, clouded with thoughts of Dave pressed up against him--he was such a bean pole, he could never retain any body heat, he latched onto Karkat all the time like his own personal heater. His hands always so cold, but his lips were always so, _so_ warm…

Karkat pushes the thoughts away, busying himself by taking a curt sip of his drink to give himself time to collect himself. The cinnamon on his tongue reminds him of that stupid dumbfuck joke from before and that’s all he needs to latch onto the anger again. He lowers his cup and eyes Dave with what he hopes is a cold stare.

“Well, any explanation will be better than nothing at all,” he says, and he’s surprised he manages to make his voice come out as level as it does. It shakes the tiniest bit with emotion, but he hopes that his anger comes across more than his despair. “I was on my way to class, but you know what? Fuck it. You bet your ass I _deserve_ an explanation.”

 _Like why do you look like that?_ Karkat wants to add on, but bites his tongue, staying silent as he stares Dave down and waits for his long-awaited explanation.

Dave swallows at Karkat's sharp, cold laugh. He's never heard Karkat sound so- so _bitter_ , but- that's fair. Dave deserves it. 

He stands there, heart pounding in a dizzyingly loud fashion, so loud he's sure Karkat can hear it somehow, hear how sick he feels, his stomach churning. His hands keep finding stray threads and pulling and if he keeps doing that he's not going to end up with any shirt left so instead he tucks his hands into his armpits which, as a bonus, also protects them from the cold air.

He's trying really hard not to shiver, now. 

"I- I'll explain." Dave says quietly. He has to breathe through his mouth, now, because he can feel his nose starting to run and he's pretty fucking sure that right now he doesn't want to be snorting and sniffling his way through the biggest fucking sob story bullshit of his life. (If he can even get the words out. Fuck.)

There goes a shiver. God fucking dammit he really doesn't want to get through this by just having Karkat feel _sorry_ for him.

"But- not here?" Dave asks, trying to keep the pleading from his tone. "Like don't get me wrong I will absolutely stand here and shiver my way through an explanation if that's how you want to have me make up for all these fucking years of bullshit but it is really fucking cold so if you have like- um. Okay, yeah not saying that, but- please?"

Karkat’s ears are throbbing with how much blood is in his face right now. He watches as Dave nervously tugs at his threadbare shirt and then stuffs his hands under his arms in an attempt to stop his fidgeting. He’s shivering, for crying out loud. Karkat takes a deep breath, and lets it out in a long sigh.

He doesn’t exactly want to stand out here in the cold listening to Dave’s story, either, but he also can’t believe what he’s about to do…

Karkat takes a step forward and holds out his drink to Dave. “Here. It’ll keep your hands warm until we find a place to talk.” he explains, and he finds it difficult to keep his voice terse.

“I’d just say we could go back to the cafe but…” I don’t want to taint that place any further than I already have this morning “I think we already caused enough of a scene there, so...I don’t know, let’s just...walk until we find somewhere we can talk properly.”

Dave can't believe it. Karkat is just _holding his drink out_ , offering it to Dave like it's a fucking olive branch, or-

okay, maybe not an olive branch. He's still clearly pissed.

Dave takes it carefully because if he drops it it will literally be the last fucking thing he does before he just. Throws himself into traffic or something. Christ.

The warmth leeches through his fingers, which is a relief, and he nods a little.

"Pretty sure it would be more than awkward." He mumbles, stepping forwards to walk at Karkat's side. He takes a half moment to mourn the loss of the drink he had ordered, which, yeah, $4.50 down the drain hurts but it's whatever, _Karkat_ is standing right here and he's worth more than that $4.50 coffee ever could be.

"Sides, it's college area, I'm sure we'll see another coffee shop in like, three feet." Dave jokes weakly. "Can't throw a stone around here without breaking the windows of at least three of them."

Karkat catches himself about to chuckle--fucking _chuckle_ \--at what Dave says but manages to turn it into a scoff at the last second.

Damn the Strider Charm all to fucking hell.

“You can steal a few sips if you want,” Karkat says, because he was about to add his own two cents onto Dave’s comment and that’s just _way_ too much like their old banter so he shoots that idea down real quick. “I know it’s not your usual black coffee with fifteen packets of sugar, but...should at least warm your insides a bit.”

He almost wishes he’d just gone for the witty banter instead because now he just sounds like a _doting boyfriend_ and that is absolutely ten thousand times worse.

They walk for another minute or two before Karkat spots a coffee shop on the corner. He’s been in there before, and knows for a fact that it’s not as populated with college students because it’s geared more toward snobby coffee aficionados and old people. Karkat also knows that it has a fireplace. Perfect.

“Here’s one, let’s get inside.” Karkat says, pointing to the shop as they cross the street. He opens the door and heads in first, then holds the door open for Dave to go past him.

Dave wasn't expecting much, but the scoff was still a sharp lance in his already-aching heart. He just holds his tongue and looks down at the drink.

He- no, he shouldn't. He _wants_ to take a sip, but it's Karkat's drink, Karkat's just being nice. "Thanks." Dave murmurs, just shifting his grip slightly.

He follows Karkat into the coffee shop, a shudder running down his spine. He glances at the front, at the almost-nonexistent line, and hands Karkat's drink back. "Um. I'm gonna go- pick something up real quick."

He's actually really cold now. Shit, this is why winter is his least favorite season. At least when he lived in Austin it never got _below freezing._

Karkat takes back his drink. “Yeah, sure,” he says. “Uh, I’m gonna grab us seats.”

Karkat walks over to the couches over by the fireplace, which is crackling with flames and smells absolutely amazing. Honestly if the baristas here weren’t such hipster snobs who fucked up his order and name every time he came here, he would come here more often just for the ambiance. It’s a lot more quiet than the other place, and as he sinks onto the couch he thinks to himself that hopefully he and Dave don’t ruin that by this turning into some screaming match or whatever.

Karkat’s never even _heard_ Dave raise his voice--well, except for--

Nope. No, no, no, bad boy. Bad Karkat. He sucks down another sip of his drink, then sets it down on the table in front of the couch with a little more force than necessary. It’s super warm by the fireplace and he already retains enough body heat to qualify as a human space heater, so he shucks off his backpack and coat and stuffs them next to him on the couch, then grabs his drink again.

Dave walks over with his coffee, and Karkat is suddenly very aware that there’s only one couch by this fireplace. He moves his coat and backpack off the couch and dumps them unceremoniously onto the floor so that he can scoot as close to the armrest as possible, giving Dave room to sit down.

Dave orders his drink, waits impatiently, and collects it, trying really hard not to cast obvious looks over at Karkat, who- oh thank fuck, is grabbing a seat next to the fireplace. He clutches his drink as he carefully makes his way over.

Over to the _couch_. Dave tries really really really hard not to read anything into it, especially as Karkat scoots as physically far as possible from where Dave would be sitting. Dave sits down gingerly, fully expecting a landmine to just spontaneously go off and destroy them. That would be more merciful then what's about to follow. (If it even follows at all. Dave's still waiting for Karkat to just roll his eyes and get up and leave because that's about what Dave deserves.)

For the sheer sake of something to do with his hands, Dave runs his thumb over the sleeve on his drink, over the bumpy surface, and tries not to bounce his leg. 

"So." He says awkwardly. "Um."

He had been so ready to just blurt it out on the street- because then at least if anything goes wrong there's an immediate exit re: five steps to the left. Here, in the cozy cafe, there's no easy exit unless Dave wants to try and vault a table and jump out the window, but unless Dave majorly fucks it up it probably wouldn't even end up with a broken leg.

"Explanations." Dave says awkwardly, and takes a deep breath.

"I-." He groans, tipping his head back. "Fuck, why is this so fucking _hard_? I had fucking _pages_ written out at some point of shit to say to you, but now I just..." He trails off.

Karkat has _never_ seen Dave like this.

His mouth opens, then closes again. He watches Dave’s long fingers as they fidget with the sleeve on his coffee cup. Then he groans in exasperation and tips his head back, saying he _wrote down_ what to say to Karkat? He wrote him a letter? Did he...never send one? Karkat’s stomach flip-flops at the thought, and then he thinks about all the things he wrote down, on scrap pieces of paper, in his journal, the Notes app on his phone, all about Dave.

Karkat suddenly realizes he’s still wearing his fucking pom-pom hat (god why did he have to wear this one today of all days) and pulls it off his head, then scrubs his fingers through his hat, trying in what’s likely in vain to fix whatever tragic-looking hat hair was hiding beneath. He stuffs his hat down with his coat and bag, then looks back up at Dave, who looks like he wants to leap out of the chair and run away.

“I know what you mean,” Karkat hears himself saying the words but can’t believe his mouth is moving and actually saying them. It’s like he’s hovering up by the ceiling, watching all this happen.

Karkat shuffles in his seat, feeling a bit bad about trying to press himself into the couch as far from Dave as possible, and tries to situate himself more comfortably. Body language needs to be open, he’s learning this shit in class, time to put it to use. Dave looks like a deer in headlights, and he’s never going to get anything out of him if Karkat keeps acting like Dave is the biggest cockroach he’s ever seen.

He leans over to the table and picks up his drink so he’s got something to busy himself with. Takes another sip, the chamomile instantly soothing his fried nerves.

“There was so much I had planned to say to you too, but...as soon as I saw you, it all just went out of my head,” Karkat goes on, keeping his eyes on the fireplace and running his thumb along the lid of his cup as he talks, “I wrote a bunch of shit, too. But all of it was written by a depressed seventeen-year-old so they don’t exactly count for much.”

God, why the fuck is he saying all this to him?

“I think whatever either of us says now will hopefully be a bit more fucking eloquent than whatever dumbass infantile horeshit we would have spewed as kids.” Karkat says, taking another long sip of his drink so he’ll shut the fuck up.

Dave makes a snort at that. "I would hope I'm more eloquent now than at seventeen, but I think my English teacher last year would disagree." He says weakly, before shaking his head.

"What am I doing." He mutters. _Fucking deflecting, as always._ He shifts to press his back a little more against the arm of the couch. Not quite looking _at_ Karkat, but enough that he hopes Karkat can read his body, tell how hard Dave is trying. (Is he trying? Ha, fuck. He doesn't know. Dave doesn't deserve forgiveness. If he sabotages this, then he'll never get it.)  
  
(But. Karkat wouldn't get closure. Even after all these years, Karkat's clearly still in pain, with how angry he is. He deserves the truth- even if Dave doesn't want to say a single fucking word, doesn't want to tell Karkat a single fucking thing, his heart aching in his chest just from being so close to him, doesn't want Karkat look at him in disgust, pulling away, telling him how worthless he is- bitter anger would be better than that.)

"I'm sorry." Dave blurts, before he can second-guess himself. "I- I'm just. I'm sorry. I- I can't even fucking imagine the aftermath of everything I.. everything I did."

Fuck. He's not lying- he can't even imagine how much it would hurt if it had been the other way around- if Karkat had broken up with him and then _vanished_. His heart aches just thinking about it.

Karkat watches Dave over the rim of his cup as he deflects, catches himself with a grimace, and then moves into another position on the couch. Good, his body language is opening up in response to Karkat’s. Man, his Psych professor really knew her shit--humans are so predictable. Clearly a species meant for communication, and yet fucking _dolphins_ do it better. Probably have better sex because of it, too.

Jesus, god, there he goes again. Professor Lalonde would probably have a whole ass spiel about all these sexual escapades Karkat’s brain keeps tripping and falling into. He takes another big sip of tea. Then, Dave says _sorry_ again, and Karkat’s heart is hammering again.

_I can’t even fucking imagine the aftermath of everything_

Karkat lowers his cup and looks back at the flames crackling away in the fireplace again, as his brain travels far away. Five years into the past, where he’s crying over his phone, trying in desperation to get in touch with Dave. He can still remember the sound of his own wretched sobs as he dialled Dave’s number for the millionth time. He remembers his voicemail by heart even now, he heard it so many times.

_Hey, what’s up…_

_…_

_..._

_Haha, gotcha. Guess I missed your call. I’d tell you to leave a message but my voicemail is probably full, I always forget to check it. Also, why are you even calling me? Just text me like a normal person, you absolute heathen. A’ight, peace._

Karkat didn’t realize his eyes had closed, and he opens them again.

They dated for two years, they’d been best friends since they were thirteen. And Dave dumped him over text and then never spoke to him ever again.

The aftermath was that it broke Karkat. He’d fallen into the worst depression of his fucking life. He didn’t even bother with college after graduation because he knew he’d just waste the money his dad had saved since he was a baby by being too fucking depressed to get out of bed and flunk all his classes. He isn’t even sure how he got through the rest of high school, it went by slowly and yet in a blur. He shut himself off from all his friends, he cried in the bathroom stall during his lunch break and free periods, or sometimes in the middle of class. But he buried himself in his school work to keep his mind off of everything, and somehow managed to pass all his classes. Maybe he just did it so that he wouldn’t have to be depressed about failing something else in his life...who knows. It was so long ago now he can barely even remember.

And yet, it still aches, like he’s lost a limb and he’s still got phantom pain.

He can still see himself, sitting in the dark in his basement, a razor blade in his hand. Bringing it to his arm, then flinging the blade across the room and bursting into tears. He couldn’t do it.

Walking home from work, and seeing a bunch of broken glass on the sidewalk. He’d thought about rolling around in it.

Or walking out onto the street. Anything to make it all stop.

Karkat looks over at Dave, and his eyes are glistening and yet he strangely doesn’t feel like crying right now. “I just...thought I meant more to you than that.”

Dave flinches a little at Karkat's words.

"You do. Did. Do." he fumbles with his words. "I- fuck, Karkat, you were the _best fucking thing that ever happened to me_." He swallows against the lump in his throat. Fuck, he really really really does not want to cry right now. He would _really_ like to avoid that, please, he's yanking at his mask and trying to hold it together, he can't cry, can't give Karkat a reason to pity him, he won't do it.

"And you deserved- so much better than what I did-" fuck, fuck, come on Dave, be a fucking man, fucking get through this shit without your voice fucking crackling or warbling, "and I know I don't deserve your for- _giveness_ -" fuck there it went.

Dave squeezes his eyes shut. They're burning.

"But I had to." He manages. "It was- was better than the alternative." Why did he say that?! _Why_ did he say that?!

Fuck he's stupid, he's so fucking stupid, why did he say that, now Karkat will _ask_ , he'll ask and Dave will tell him and suddenly everything will be okay because he'll _understand_ and Dave will get off scott-free and he _doesn't want that_ , he needs Karkat to be mad at him because it's what Dave _deserves_.

Karkat presses his lips together and has to take a _deep_ breath through his nose when Dave says he was the _best fucking thing that ever happened to him_ , in that _voice_ , god, how many times did his voice alone make him fall completely apart?

And it’s too _much_ to hear this from him now. Why _now_? Why did he never say this when they were together? And if he felt that way, why in the fuck did he _leave_?

Karkat hadn’t felt like crying a second ago, but it’s already threatening to come back up on him again. He pushes it deep down, and then realizes he’s still holding his breath. He lets it out, slowly, until his breathing is steady again.

He had to? What the fuck does that mean, he _had_ to?

“The alternative?” Karkat blurts out, suddenly exasperated. “The alternative of being with me? It was better than _being with me_?”

Dave flinches so hard its more of a hunch, curling in over his drink. He's very very very grateful for his shades, hiding the watering of his eyes.

"Don't- I shouldn't have said that." He says, voice weak. "It wasn't true. Not then, not now." Maybe that'll be enough, enough to deflect, enough to get Karkat to not think about what the other option was-

The other option that- that _Bro_ -

Dave's fingers grip his drink so hard that the material under his fingers is starting to crumple. He takes a sip with a shaking hand, turning his face away.

This is the part where Karkat walks out, right? The part where Karkat leaves sad, pathetic, enigmatic, Dave Strider behind because he's too chickenshit coward to say anything that actually _matters_.

Karkat squints his eyes hard at Dave as he takes a shaky sip of his coffee and looks away from him.

He tries to think back to the last few months of their relationship, and _fuck_ that stirs some painful memories. Dave had honestly been growing distant several weeks before the breakup, but they were both avoiding the issue like a bunch of idiots. Instead of just _asking_ Dave what was wrong, what _Karkat_ did wrong, they should have talked about, Karkat could have _fixed_ it--

There’s no point in even asking now, but he can’t stop the words that tumble from his mouth.

“What did I do wrong?”

He hates how small his voice sounds right now.

Dave jerks upright, pain lancing through his chest at the words. Karkat thought- he thought _he did something wrong?_ All this time- No, he didn't-

"Nothing- Karkat, _no_ , you didn't do anything wrong, it was all Br- all _me_." He says desperately, barely catching the words as they almost fly from his mouth. He makes an aborted motion, wanting to reach out and grab Karkat's hand, his thigh, his shoulder- but knowing he doesn't even deserve to _touch_ Karkat, not after everything, so he jerks his hand back, fisting it onto his thigh instead. 

Karkat didn't do anything wrong.

It was all Dave, as usual.

Dave's the fuckup.

"It was all me." Dave repeats, voice thick. Fuck. Somehow he had thought he could get through this without crying, but of course, here's Dave, the walking, breathing disappointment. Ruining everything, destroying anything of worth to him, driving people away and just being all-around worthless.

He takes in a deep breath, turning his face away, trying to make it as even as possible, but it's staggered, shuddering, and he knows the ruse is up before the first hot, fat tears even start slipping down his cheeks, rolling down and dripping down and landing on his bare hands.

Karkat is stunned. He feels more than just that, but fuck it, it’s the only word he can think of at the moment.

It wasn’t because of him? He didn’t do anything wrong?

Karkat suddenly can’t get a decent breath of air in. Fuck, all this time he’d been playing back those last few months in his head, trying to go back even before that--something, _anything_ he could have done to fuck it all up. That made Dave not love him anymore.

Karkat doesn’t miss the way Dave stutters over his words, almost saying something else before he says it was all his fault. All _who_? What was he going to say?

Then he’s looking away again, trying to pull the stoic mask back on, but he can’t, and then--oh _fuck_. Fuck…

Is Dave… _crying_?

Karkat’s heart wrenches painfully in his chest. He’s never seen Dave cry, not in all the years he’d known him, not in all the years of friendship and their short time together as more, not once. It was a boundary Dave never let himself cross.

But here he is now, tears openly falling down his cheeks.

All the pain Karkat had felt in all those five years leaves his mind. None of it fucking matters anymore, all of a sudden. He’d had plenty of vicious fantasies about seeing Dave again one day and seeing him break. An ugly, petty part of him wanted Dave to come crawling back to him, begging for forgiveness. And Karkat would get to be the one to say goodbye, to see him cry.

But those were the thoughts of a heartbroken kid with wounded pride. Seeing Dave now, completely vulnerable, every single wall that had ever been between them now completely shattered, all Karkat wants to do is make it go away. Take Dave’s pain away.

He reaches out a hand, then pulls it back, still wary. Does this mean he’s forgiven him, if he does this now? Karkat tries not to let that thought fester in his mind, pushing it to the back for now. He sets down his drink, and scoots across the couch. He reaches his hand out, slowly, carefully--he doesn’t want Dave to think he’s about to, fuck, hit him or some shit.

He puts his hand over one of Dave’s trembling ones, and rubs his thumb in what he hopes is a soothing gesture across his cold skin.

When Dave doesn’t fly off the couch and run out the door from that, Karkat pushes his luck a little bit further. He brings his other hand up and places it gently on Dave’s shoulder. Then he gives Dave’s hand a soft squeeze as he starts to rub his other hand up and down Dave’s back.

“It’s okay,” he says softly, “It’s...it’s okay.”

Dave goes tense as a startled cat under Karkat's hand, but slowly relaxes as Karkat doesn't do anymore more than gently brush his thumb back and forth over Dave's skin. His entire hand feels like it's tingling. There's a strange, cold wash going through him even as his face burns, his gut churns. It's electrifying. It's freezing.

He might be about to puke. 

Then Karkat's other hand settles on Dave's shoulder and it all rushes in and condenses down to a strange warmth, flooding through his chest, his throat, as Karkat gently rubs his back. He shudders hard, a thick sob catching in his throat.

"It's- not." He manages. "It's not. It's not okay, Karkat- I-"

He chokes on his words, a couple more thick tears dripping down his face.

"I hurt you so badly." Dave whispers. "You shouldn't forgive me. I don't- I don't deserve it."

Karkat sighs softly. “I didn’t say I forgive you,” he mutters quietly, “I’m just...it’s okay to cry, you know?”

Dave looks like he’s ready to be fucking sick, he’s so tense. Karkat isn’t sure if it’s his touch that’s the cause, but now that he’s here he can’t seem to stop, either. In fact, he only wants to get closer. Sitting this close to Dave now, he takes in a deep breath and nearly fucking _sighs_ in pleasure. He smells exactly like he remembers.

He scoots himself even closer, despite his better judgment, even though his brain screams at him that this is a _bad_ fucking idea. He doesn’t care, Dave’s scent is filling up all his senses and making his brain fuzzy.

If they’re closer, then they can talk extra quietly and still be able to hear each other. Then nobody can eavesdrop on their conversation.

Karkat decides not to remind himself there’s literally nobody in this cafe right now to hear them anyway, and scoots closer to Dave. He keeps his hand on top of Dave’s and wraps his other arm across his shoulder, holding him close, his cheek squished against Dave’s bony shoulder.

“You were--you were my best fucking friend, man,” Karkat murmurs, “I wasn’t about to just...sit there like some asshole and let you cry your eyes out in front of me like that’s not the biggest fucking deal for you to do, ever. The fuck you take me for?”

Dave nods a little, feeling some of the tension leaving him. Karkat _isn't_ forgiving him, he isn't just handwaving Dave's mistakes because he's crying.

Maybe that should make him feel worse, but, it actually makes him feel _better_ , knowing that he's not just getting forgiven for no reason.

And then Karkat presses a little closer and every single nerve on that side of Dave's body lights up. He can swear his hairs are standing on end, every inch of him screaming, reaching for Karkat, begging _please please touch me, please, touch me Karkat, please-_

And then Karkat _does_ , he presses his _entire body to Dave's,_ and the screaming in Dave's head goes quiet. Karkat is _warm_ , his body pressing into Dave's and there's a terrible, desperate neediness in Dave's chest that makes him want to turn and press his face to Karkat's shoulder.

It's only through sheer force of will that he refrains.

"S-someone better than me." Dave gets out as his shoulders shake, breathing hitching. "Someone who-" his voice fails him, eyes squeezing shut.

Fuck, how fucking embarrassing. Crying on his (ex, ex-) boyfriend.

Karkat scoffs again, but this time it comes out much softer, really just a short puff of air out of his nose.

He’s never heard Dave be so...self-deprecating. When they were kids he acted like he was all hot shit, and it drove Karkat crazy. They’d actually known each other since they were like, six years old, but Dave had his group of friends and Karkat had his. They were in completely different worlds, they lived in relatively close neighbourhoods but didn’t go to the same school until Dave moved to a new apartment with his older brother, and they were in the same class in middle school together for the first time.

At first, they honestly couldn’t stand each other. Karkat thought Dave’s whole “cool kid” act was fucking lame, plus it didn’t help he started dating the girl Karkat had a crush on since he was like ten years old, Terezi Pyrope. But that didn’t last for very long since they were only like twelve or thirteen at the time, plus some other girl moved to town and basically hogged all of Terezi’s attention, and her and Dave just kind of...fizzled out. Still friends, but not dating. After that, Karkat and Dave started to hang out more and more until one day Karkat realized that Dave had become his favourite person on the planet. When he’d told Dave he was his best friend, Dave had _grinned_ and said, “Knew that Strider Charm would sink in one of these days.”

Karkat’s eyes went soft as he got lost in reminiscing, still rubbing circles into the back of Dave’s hand and rubbing his other hand up and down the side of Dave’s arm.

He isn’t used to this sad, broken Dave. This Dave that says he doesn’t _deserve_ anything, this Dave that looks like these last five years have treated him like _hell_. He wants to pull him even closer and pull all these negative things away; it’s like Dave is covered in a thick black oil, and if he stays here long enough, holding him, he can take it all away. Until he’s the old Dave again, the same Dave that was his best friend for years, the same Dave he was absolutely head over heels in love with when he was still too young to even fully grasp what that meant.

Karkat turns his head so his face is pressed into Dave’s shoulder. His mouth wants to move, to kiss the ball of his shoulder like he did so many times in the past, but he holds himself back. Instead he just presses his forehead against him, as if he’s bunting him like a cat.

“I don’t like hearing you talk like that,” he says softly, “Just because...you hurt me--that doesn’t make you a bad person. Whatever your reasons were...it seems like it was a really hard decision for you. And I guess I gotta take some comfort in that. Wish you’d gone about it better, but…”

Karkat trails off, unsure of what else to say, his eyes slipping closed. His hand that’s stroking Dave’s moves, going underneath to take Dave’s hand, slip his fingers between Dave’s, and give it a reassuring squeeze.

“You were clearly hurting then, and I didn’t ask what was wrong, or how to make it better.” Karkat goes on, “So, I’m making up for it now, because you’re still hurting. Even worse.”

Dave's heart actually stops as Karkat take his hand ( _takes his hand_ , Karkat is _taking his hand-_ ), he can barely hear Karkat's words over the sound of his heart beating, pounding in his ears. But he catches the words-

_-you're still hurting._

Dave shudders. What does it matter if he's hurting? Why should it influence or change anything at all? He's not important. It's fine. (And yet. Something inside is quietly begging for Karkat to never stop touching him, for Karkat to _forgive him-_ )

"It's stupid." He mutters, every single ounce of his awareness centered around the gentle, _gentle_ touch of Karkat's head on his shoulder. "This was supposed to go- different."

He gives a wet little laugh.

"Supposed to show up and pour my heart out to you." He says quietly, his fingers gently squeezing Karkat's. "Then you could punch me and we could just both move _on_ -"

Karkat, with his closure. Dave, with his penance and broken heart.

Karkat pulls his head up to look at Dave.

 _“Dude_ ,” Karkat says, honestly aghast, “I would never...god, I wouldn’t punch you. It never even came up in any of my petty daydreams about this exact moment.”

He sighs loudly, and plops his head back on Dave’s shoulder.

“No matter how angry I felt, I never...I _couldn’t_. You were—“ he stops himself, pressing his lips together, then begins again, softer, “you _are_ my best friend, Dave.”

And it’s true, isn’t it? There’s never been anyone else in Karkat’s life like Dave, before or since. And even after all this time, and after everything Karkat went through, the moment he saw Dave hurting, none of the other bullshit mattered. His best friend was hurting and he needed to be here for him, and that was that.

And if that concept came to Karkat so simply, there was no doubt in his mind Dave was _still_ his best friend, even though they hadn’t spoken in years. Even though Dave broke his heart.

Maybe they’d never get back to what they had before, but maybe they could reconcile their friendship, pick it up out of the burning wreckage and make it into something workable again. Karkat would like that.

Now that Dave’s stumbled back into his life, Karkat doesn’t want to think about the possibility of him walking out of it again.

He isn’t sure he can take it a second time.

“You never told me where you went,” Karkat said quietly, “where you’ve been all this time. Where are you living now? Are you in residence or something? Shit, do we go to the same college?”

The questions start falling out of him in rapid fire before he can stop them but he can’t help it. What happened to Dave in those five years? Why is he like this now?

What he wants to ask is _are you safe?_ but he shuts his mouth before any more questions can stumble out.

_Best friend, you're my best friend, you're my best friend-_ the words ring through Dave's head and he doesn't know if he likes the feeling of relief and _benediction_ it brings.

It was already _more_ than he had possibly hoped for. A chance for something more than just penance-

a chance to have _Karkat_ back in his life.

Dave raises a hand and wipes his face as Karkat starts asking questions, not caring of the way it smears snot on his flannel. Having Karkat pressed up against him like this, just feeling the warmth of his body- his eyes are still leaking but his throat isn't tight- his heart is thumping in a way that, for the first time in years, feels _normal_.

He wipes his face again as he tries to focus on Karkat's words. "I- yeah. Um." He glances towards Karkat, trying to judge the expression on his face. "Moved out to the west coast for a couple years."

That had been hell. Every single moment was torture.

"But- yeah, living on campus here, now, um. Just getting my generals." God, does Karkat go here? Could Dave had been any more lucky? How many months- _years_ , even- had they been moving in the same social circles?

So Dave had moved out west. Wow, no wonder Karkat never saw him again, he’d moved to a completely different state. Karkat had thought nothing would ever make Dave leave Texas, and that even if he did move away, Texas was a big enough state that he could move far away that Karkat wouldn’t have a chance in hell of finding him, while still staying in his home state.

But the _west coast_? What was out there for Dave? Maybe he had family there? He’d never mentioned it.

Karkat moves his head so he can look up at Dave while keeping his head on his shoulder, and he can see from here that the back of Dave’s neck is _doused_ in freckles, more than he remembered ever being there. Must have been a place with as much sun as Texas; Dave hated the cold. So why he’d chosen to come to school in Chicago, the Windy City that basically always had rain and freezing cold winds this time of year, was beyond Karkat.

But it meant their paths had crossed again, and Karkat couldn’t help but be grateful for that.

“Where on the west coast?” Karkat asked, “California?” he guesses, and the corner of his lip quirks up a little. He could see Dave there. He’d fit right in, what with his shiny blonde hair and tanned skin.

His wandering thoughts lead him to a mental image of a very topless Dave on a sunny California beach, wind in his hair, his lips pulled into a grin. Dave had always had the perfect smile, though he seldom showed it in their first few years of friendship. Not his true one anyway. Just little smirks, a few shit-eating sneers. But after a few years, he softened up, let down his guard around Karkat and allowed himself to _really_ smile. It blew Karkat’s hair back the first time he saw it. He remembered thinking _I want to make him that happy all the time, I never want to see that smile leave his face._

Karkat peeks up at the clock above the fireplace. Yeah, he’s definitely late for his morning class. But fuck it. _Dave_ is here, he’s _real_ , he’s **back** , and in Karkat’s arms. Karkat can afford to skip class just this once. Dave is worth it.

Dave runs his thumb along the rim of his cup. His face feels puffy and raw and _ugh_ this is why he never wants to cry (among other reasons), so he raises his drink and takes a sip to clear his throat.

"Um- yeah. Cali's spot on, actually." He says, and is relieved that his voice is steadier.

He wants to wrap his arm around Karkat, hug him back, wants to hold him close and turn into him like these last five years never happened, like it's just another morning. He doesn't, though, because as relaxed as Karkat seems to be now, Dave still doesn't have that right. Another thick tear slips down his cheek and he wipes it away.

"Right outside of L.A." Dave goes on. "Bro, um. Got a job out there so we moved."

Eugh. Dave would really fucking prefer to avoid literally everything about that topic. He's got nothing against sex workers, a lot of them are downright lovely, really, but-

Fuck. Dave really doesn't need to think about that right now. He wrenches his thoughts back to the present.

"I didn't break up with you because we moved." He says quietly. "Bro just. Sprung the move on me. I didn't get to say goodbye to anyone else, either."

Karkat’s heart gives a lurch in his chest at Dave’s words. He sits up again, staring at the side of Dave’s face. He can see the profile of his eyes at this angle, and with how close he’s sitting to him, he can see how wet his lashes are with tears.

God, of course Dave is pretty even when he cries. Another stray tear is rolling down his cheek, and despite the ache in Karkat’s chest, he finds his hand moving on it’s own. He pulls his arm away from Dave’s shoulder, and reaches out to gently rub the rolling tear away with the pad of his thumb.

“Then...then why _did_ you break up with me?” Karkat asks.

Dave jerks in surprise as Karkat wipes his tear away, heart slamming into his ribs as he turns to look at Karkat.

"I-" Oh fuck. Fuck, Dave, just fucking say it. It's the fucking truth. Karkat- he'll understand. It's the simplest fucking thing in the world just fucking _say it_ \- "-don't know-" _fuck, Dave, you colossal fuckup-_ "I don't-"

Just _say it Dave, **say**_ **it-** _  
_

Oh god, no. Please not a panic attack. Not right now. Dave can feel himself starting to shake. He turns and, ignoring every thought he had before about not deserving it, wraps an arm around Karkat, pressing his face to Karkat's shoulder.

"I don't know-" He chokes out, words paralyzed in his throat.

_THE WORDS ARE RIGHT FUCKING THERE, DAVE, JUST FUCKING SAY THEM-_

"I-it-" His brain is _screaming_ at him, it's so loud, pulsing in time with his blood, the words choking him, tripping over his tongue, filling his mouth like cotton.

"It was Bro." Dave forces them out. "If- if I-" He swallows, eyes squeezed shut, hot and burning, feeling fresh tears slip down his cheeks again.

"If I didn't- Bro would- he was going to- to-"

Karkat has never seen Dave like this, _ever_. But he knows a fucking panic attack when he sees one.

Dave finally touches him again since he grabbed his wrist on the street, wrapping an arm around Karkat and pulling him close. For a moment all Karkat can do is allow himself to be pulled into Dave’s embrace, his eyes wide.

_It was Bro._

Those words turn to molten lava in Karkat’s stomach. Dave’s older brother? He’d never met the guy, Dave seemed intent on never letting it happen. They always hung out around the city, at school, or at Karkat’s house, back in those days. Karkat knew where Dave lived just because he always made a point of walking home with him, just as an excuse to spend that little bit longer with him.

They never kissed goodbye outside Dave’s apartment. A fist bump was all Dave ever offered. Karkat never questioned him on it. He knew Dave wanted to keep them as much a secret as possible, and Karkat tried not to let it get to him. As much as he wanted to show Dave off to the entire world, it wasn’t what Dave was comfortable with. In fact, Dave never would have let them embrace like this out in public, even in a nearly-empty cafe. Everything about Dave is alien to him now. Most of the changes are strange, and upsetting.

Karkat wraps both arms around Dave and squeezes him tight, burying his face into the crook of Dave’s shoulder, mimicking Dave’s own embrace.

At least this Dave lets him hold him as tight as he wants.

In fact, he seems _desperate_ for this touch, this comfort. Karkat is more than willing to give it. He holds Dave tight, clenching his fists into Dave’s shirt. His shirt feels wet where Dave is pressed into him as fresh tears fall, and Karkat brings one hand up into Dave’s hair, running his fingers up the back of his neck and into his soft blonde locks.

“Shhh, shh,” Karkat hushes him in a soft whisper, “It’s okay, it’s okay…”

Karkat closes his eyes. His heart is fluttering in his chest like hummingbird wings, he feels like he can’t get a breath of air into his lungs. But he’s surrounded by _Dave_ , holding him against him in a way he never thought he’d be able to hold him again. Dave’s scent fills his nose as he buries his face deeper into his shoulder, and Karkat breathes it deep into his lungs, feeling as though he could get drunk on it.

Without thinking, he presses a firm kiss to Dave’s collarbone through his thin, worn shirt. He holds his lips there for a time, probably longer than he should, before he breaks away, pulling himself off like he’s a leech. He sighs, twisting his head to rest on Dave’s shoulder again, his face turned towards Dave’s.

“So it was because of your Bro?” Karkat says, his eyes still closed. He finds his voice sounds...relieved, in a strange way. Yet strained, and sad. He was an idiot, he should have _known_ , should have seen the signs that Dave was--

_Are you safe?_

Is this why he came to Chicago? How did he get here? Did he run away? Apply for every school that wasn’t in the golden state so he had some chance of getting away?

What happened to him in California?

Why didn’t Karkat try harder to _find him_?

There’s so many questions flying through Karkat’s mind. He wants to ask them all, and yet he can barely manage to speak, his throat feels so tight.

Does this mean Dave still loved him? That he never stopped loving Karkat, he just...he was forced to leave. He didn’t want to say goodbye.

Karkat thought after five years, his heart had finally healed. But seeing Dave here, so different and yet _not_ all at the same time, it’s like an old wound has reopened. And it’s _painful_ , and terrifying, and--

And _perfect._

_Do you still love me?_

Karkat opens his eyes, and this time he can’t hold it back anymore, and the tears finally fall.

Karkat _hugs him back_ , Karkat is actually choosing to touch him, is holding him as Dave shakes and cries and he _doesn't deserve this_ but god if he isn't grateful for Karkat's gentle touch and soothing noises as he trembles his way through a panic attack, his throat closing up, tears falling down his face, yeah, he's got this shit on _lockdown_ he didn't even fucking hyperventilate this time, god-

God Dave's a fucking wreck and he knows it.

But just having Karkat close- it's. It's good. It fills a deep, empty pit in his chest, like the heat from Karkat's body is leeching into him and slapping caulk into his cracks, sealing them up.

Fuck, right. They're- they're still talking. Dave can't just zone out and dream blissfully, wrapped in Karkat's warmth.

So he pulls back enough to wipe his face and _oh fuck oh fuck_ Karkat's crying, he didn't- oh god.

"Hey, hey-" Dave immediately dumps every single one of his problems and issues to the side, into the trash can, into his bag, literally anywhere else that is _not right here_ and reaches up to cup Karkat's face. "Oh fuck, Karkat, no, it's okay, well, no, it's not okay, but you don't need to cry, I promise, I'm okay-"

Dave's panicking. He doesn't know what to do, he doesn't know how to handle this, this _isn't how he thought it would go._ He does his best to thumb Karkat's tears away, cradling his face gently.

Karkat _melts_ into a puddle of fucking goo in Dave’s hands, a choked, hiccup-sob breaking out of him as Dave wipes away his tears with his thumbs. It’s so _much_ , it’s all _so much_. Just when he thinks all his memories had come back to him, even more come crashing down on him and knock him right back down again.

Dave used to comfort him like this all the time. Karkat’s always been Dave’s foil, wearing every emotion on his sleeve in plain sight, where Dave hid them all away. Dave never shed a tear in front of Karkat, but Karkat quickly lost count of the times he’d cried in front of Dave. It was almost funny now, looking back and remembering the very first time; Dave had absolutely _panicked_ , Karkat had never seen him so frazzled. He had no idea what the hell to do with his hands or what to say. So he cupped Karkat’s face in his hands and just kept saying, “shh, shh, don’t cry, don’t cry, oh my god, please stop crying…” until Karkat finally settled down.

Dave got better at handling Karkat’s waterworks as the years went by. He always knew just what to do to calm him down, to ground him.

Karkat closes his eyes at the memory, sighing gently, his tears falling silently down his cheeks as his sobs quiet down.

_Shhh, Karkat, baby, it’s okay. I’m right here, I got you. I’ve got you._

Karkat leans into Dave’s touch, his eyes still closed. He sighs softly as Dave wipes away the last few tears on his cheeks. He brings up one hand and covers one of Dave’s with it, a steadying, reassuring touch. _This is okay, this is good, please keep touching me, don’t ever stop--_

His other hand comes up and rests on Dave’s shoulder. He’s not trembling anymore, it’s like his panic attack got shut off like a switch the second Dave noticed Karkat’s tears. The thought of it makes Karkat’s heart leap. He put his own pain aside, just like Karkat did for him…

Karkat realizes his eyes are still closed, and finally opens them, going limp at the sight of Dave sitting in front of him. He can see just above his shades that his brows are pulled together in a worried line, he’s biting his lip, pinching it tight between his teeth.

God, Karkat had never stopped loving him for even a second, had he?

“I’m okay,” Karkat says, and his voice comes out in a weak croak thanks to his crying, ugh. He clears his throat a little, and tries again. “I’m okay. Don’t worry, I’m not...it’s just--I’m just _glad_. I’m glad you’re okay, that--that you’re safe, you got away, that--we found each other again…”

They _found each other_. Somehow, against all odds, they’d both wound up in that coffee shop at the same time, in the same city.

Karkat could have gone anywhere he wanted for school. He’d had the grades for it; schoolwork was all he had for so long, he buried himself in it and graduated with honors. He could have picked any school he wanted.

And Dave--god, Dave was so _talented_ , he could have gone anywhere. Maybe he wasn’t happy in Los Angeles, it was too close to Bro, but--he could have done anything he wanted. And he _hated_ the cold, but--

But he came to Chicago.

Karkat had always been a hopeless romantic, he couldn’t help it. Maybe it was cheesy, but _this_ \--fuck, this _meant_ something, right? It had to. This had to be _fate_.

He’d already spent five years without Dave in his life, and they’d been the longest and loneliest years of his life.

He can’t imagine a life without Dave in it. He doesn’t want to. He’s already lived it, and it’s hell.

“Dave…” Karkat whispers, running his hand up Dave’s shoulder, to his neck, to his jaw…

Karkat is leaning forward, like he’s being pulled by a string. He catches sight of Dave’s scarf in the corner of his eye, and for a moment he thinks of it as a red thread, pulling them closer, bringing them together…

His eyes flutter closed, his heart is racing. He cups Dave’s face in one hand, and squeezes the hand still cupping his own cheek in his own, a question, _hoping_ \--

_Please tell me you still feel the same way._

He can’t close the distance on his own. Dave needs to meet him there. And if he _can’t_ , then--

Then that’s his closure.


	2. Chapter 2

Karkat's tears subside and Dave gives a little sigh of relief. Seeing Karkat cry- it's always been the worst thing, seeing his (ex-) boyfriend miserable. Dave's never quite known how to handle it, but he always seems to muddle through somehow, and that's the important thing, that he can help Karkat feel better.

And- Karkat is _glad_. He's glad to see Dave. That Dave is _safe_ (and doesn't that make his stomach swoop).

But he's right. They _found_ each other again. After all these years of tear-soaked pillows and struggling and scrounging for any scholarship he could get his hands on, somehow, _miraculously_ , they had ended up in the same place. At the same college, at the same- the same fucking _coffee shop._

The universe, giving Dave a second chance.

(He doesn't deserve it, but- but Karkat is _here_ and touching him, putting his hand over Dave's and then his hand is on Dave's face and Dave is going wide eyed at the touch, Karkat is _leaning in-_ )

Dave presses forwards without hesitation on a rush of a exhaled sob. He cradles Karkat's face, pressing their mouths together.

It's salty, it's wet, Dave's lips are chapped and his nose is cold and running and Karkat is warm under his hands and warm against his lips and _warm_ and it's disgusting, it's snotty and it's the best fucking kiss Dave's ever had, tears slipping down his cheeks again, shifting his hand down to cup the side of Karkat's neck.

When he pulls back, all he can manage is a broken little, " _Karkat_ -"

It’s like a fucking flash bomb goes off when Karkat feels Dave’s lips press against his. His vision goes _white_ behind his eyelids, and his brain goes blank to every sensation that isn’t about Dave.

The tip of Dave’s nose is cold where it presses into his face as they kiss, but his lips are soft and warm and _sweet_ , like black coffee with way too much sugar. Karkat sighs against their mouths, feeling like a giant weight that he's been carrying around for five years has finally been pulled off his chest. He can _breathe_ again for the first time in ages, in all the times he’d dreamt about getting to kiss Dave again it could never compare to _this_ , to the real thing--

Dave pulls away slightly, and says his name in a soft, broken voice, and Karkat _breaks_.

He _lunges_ forward and seizes Dave’s lips again, because it wasn’t enough, he needs _more_ \--he could kiss Dave for _days_ and not be satisfied. Karkat moans in his throat, and slips his tongue out to run it along Dave’s bottom lip. He needs _more_ , needs to kiss Dave _deeper_ , until he’s kissed away five years of heartache and pain and _longing_.

And when he’s done with that he just wants to kiss Dave like they’re stupid teenagers again, making out sloppily in Karkat’s bedroom at 3 in the morning on a school night. Karkat’s heart pounding because Dave left his house hours ago and then snuck back in when Karkat’s dad and brother went to bed, climbing in through Karkat’s bedroom window. And they’re shivering under the sheets with excited anticipation and _fear_ and desire, terrified of getting caught but unable to stop giggling between kisses and sighs…

“I missed you so _much_ ,” Karkat all but _sighs_ against Dave’s mouth, kissing desperately at his jaw, the corners of his lips, before diving back in again, seizing his lips with his own, wanting to drown in him.

Dave doesn't expect the lunge from Karkat, their mouths pressed together roughly, the _noise_ -

god the _noise_ that Karkat makes sends his heart squeezing, leaping in his chest, heat flooding through him to every part of his body.

Karkat kisses him desperately, and it's only the drink in Dave's hand that stops him from wrapping both arms around Karkat and holding him tight. He wraps his arm around Karkat's shoulders, squeezing him tightly and pressing into the kiss, opening his mouth when Karkat's tongue swipes across his lip, tilting his head, trying to get closer, _closer_ , until nothing else exists.

_Karkat missed him._

"Missed you so much." Dave mumbles, pressing kiss after kiss to Karkat's mouth. "'m sorry-" kiss, deep and toe-curling, "sorry-" squeezing his shoulders tight, " _Karkat_ -"

He wants to do nothing more than sit here and kiss Karkat. Fuck class, fuck college, fuck everything that isn't the gorgeous, perfect boy in his arms right here, fuck his coffee and the b-

oh _shit_ the baristas are probably staring.

Dave pulls back, heart pounding in his chest, every hair standing on end, keenly aware of how furiously he was trying to eat Karkat's face in a _public space_.

Before he can second-guess himself he blurts, "come back to my dorm." His face burns.

Dave pulls away again, and Karkat almost wants to _growl_ , grab him by the collar of his flannel shirt and _drag_ him back in for another kiss. But then he peeks over Dave’s shoulder, and can see that one of the baristas is standing behind the bar, staring them both down while he wipes down a blender jug at the sink. When he and Karkat lock eyes, the barista looks away quickly, and scrubs at the blender with more force than necessary.

Karkat looks away, feeling his ears burn with embarrassment. He’d been so caught up in the heat of the moment he’d forgotten he and Dave weren’t the only people in the room, again. He’s panting slightly as he looks at Dave, his lips tingling from their desperate, passionate kiss. Karkat’s brain turns to static at what Dave says next.

“Y-your dorm?” he stammers, feeling his already-hot face burn even hotter. His stomach starts doing advanced calisthenics inside him, and his brain starts flying through all the possibilities of what _that_ statement could lead to, like he’s being shown a bunch of flash cards at top speed.

If Dave has roommates, they’re probably all gone to work or class. They’d be _all alone_ , in Dave’s dorm room--

Karkat never saw the inside of Dave’s apartment, back in the day. Never got to lie in Dave’s bed, smell the scent of Dave’s body wash on his bedsheets, see how he decorated his room--it was all a mystery to Karkat.

But now, he’d get to see Dave’s dorm--they could lie in Dave’s bed, and--

Hoo, boy. He was getting carried away.

Karkat nodded quickly. “Okay, let’s go.”

Dave drinks in the sight of Karkat's flustered expression, his blush- how he had _missed_ that sight, his heart squeezing painfully.

"Alright." He stands up, grabbing his bag and pulling it up over his shoulder, hands habitually patting his pockets to make sure his wallet and phone were still there.

"Um- we can catch the bus to my dorm from down the street- it's not far." He says, tugging his wallet out and looking at the bills there. He glances over at the baristas, flushes, and walks over, shoving a ten in the tip jar.

"Sorry." He mumbles, then waits for Karkat to catch up, holding the door open for him.

Outside is just as cold as it was previously, but Dave doesn't let himself overthink it, immediately grabbing Karkat's free hand, giving it a tight squeeze.

His heart is pounding in his chest, face flushing, face turned away from Karkat, ears hot. It's like the first time all over again, stomach clenching and knees weak as they walk to the bus stop.

Karkat’s heart skips a beat when Dave grabs his hand without any hesitation. God, this is really happening, isn’t it?

Karkat takes a sip of his tea to hide the smile pulling at his lips. It’s cold now, but he doesn’t care. It’s something to occupy his mouth.

All he wants to do is pull Dave into the nearest alley, pin him up against a wall and kiss his fucking brains out.

They reach the bus stop, and wait hand-in-hand, sipping now and then on their respective drinks. Karkat’s pretty sure his hand is sweating from the nerves, fuck that’s embarrassing. But there’s no way he’s letting go of Dave’s hand.

He takes another long sip of his cold tea, then tosses it into the nearby trash bin. Now his free hand feels...useless at his side. He scratches his nose, sniffs, then stuffs his hand into his pocket to keep his hand warm.

He has no idea what to talk about. He has so many _questions_ , and yet none of them matter. All he can think about is getting as close to Dave as possible.

Karkat shuffles over slightly, until his arm is pressed flush against Dave’s, and he gives his hand a squeeze. He still isn’t sure of what the hell to say, his cheeks burn in embarrassment for his lack of tact, and he stares down at his boots. He decides to busy himself rooting around for loose change in his pocket until he’s got enough in his hand for bus fare.

He’s grateful when the bus rolls to a stop in front of them, and he and Dave step onto the bus and find a seat, which is thankfully easy to do since this bus is mostly empty, considering the time of day.

They still haven’t let go of each other’s hands.

Karkat squeezes his hand and Dave almost fucking astral projects. His entire is warm, warming to the core, warming finally down to the bone, chasing away the chill that he hadn't ever managed to leave behind, even with the hottest California sun burning down on him.

But Karkat's touch- Dave finally feels _warm_ again.

They squish together on the bus seat; Dave has to fight really really hard to not vibrate from the touch. He just squeezes Karkat's hand again, shifting his touch so that he can tuck his thumb into Karkat's palm, rubbing back and forth, trying to ground himself.

This is _real_. This is real, and if Dave looks away for even a moment, lets his attention slip, he's terrified that Karkat will- vanish somehow.

The entire trip home Dave's stomach churns. Nervousness, terror, a desperate eager desire to just take Karkat and _kiss_ him, to wrap his arms around Karkat and never let him go- Dave doesn't even try to sort it out, because just the press of their thighs together makes it all go quiet.

Finally, though, they get to Dave's dorm, so they get off the bus and Dave leads Karkat inside and up to his dorm room.

He was lucky enough to get a segmented dorm. There's the main area, then he and his two roommates each get their own small bedroom. Out of an agreement to prevent mutual destruction, Dave, John, and Sollux had all agreed to keep and and all decorations out of the main area.

Thankfully, Sollux is at his morning class and John is at his job, so when they enter the door room Dave doesn't have to worry about nosy dormmates, so he just kicks off his shoes, drapes his scarf on their make-shift coat rack (than you, creepy harlequin doll that John's dad had given them as a dorm warming gift for some reason??? It's the One exception to the 'neutral decorations' pact), and tugs Karkat to his room.

Dave's room is.. surprisingly bare, he doesn't have a lot of money to spend on frivolous decorations or anything like that, but above his bed there's a corkboard of stuff he keeps pinned- sentimental trinkets and the like.

He doesn't give Karkat much of an opportunity to snoop, though, because the moment his door is closed he's grabbing Karkat and pulling him down to Dave's bed, Dave landing on his back and craning his head up to press their mouths together furiously, gasping, " _Karkat_ \- Oh, _god_ -"

Finally, _finally_ they reach Dave’s dorm room and--

And it’s barely even decorated. Other than the...fucking clown motherfucker that Dave hangs his scarf on. Okay, the scarf does make it, like, at least 200% more hilarious. Karkat takes off his boots, backpack and coat, tucking his coat onto the crook of the harlequin’s bent arm. Then he takes off his hat and stuffs it onto one of the points of the harlequin’s jester hat, and that brings the hilarity up another 150% or so. Karkat doesn’t have much time to admire his handiwork before Dave is grabbing his shirt sleeve and pulling him out of the common area and towards his room--oh god, oh my god, his room, they’re going in _Dave’s room-_ -

It’s not very decorated here either, much to Karkat’s chagrin. There’s a corkboard above Dave’s bed, but Karkat doesn’t get a chance to see what’s on it before Dave is pulling him towards the bed. His heart leaps into his throat as he watches Dave nearly trip over himself as he backs them toward the bed, falling back onto the mattress and guiding Karkat down to join him, already _gasping_ his name.

It’s all the invite Karkat needs, and he slides on top of Dave, sighing against his lips at the way their bodies _fit_ together so perfectly, just like he remembered. It’s like muscle memory kicks in, and he knows exactly where to place himself so they’re both comfortable. Dave’s arms slide around his neck as their chests press together and Karkat kisses him, hard and deep and _wanting_ , a deep groan building at the base of his throat.

Karkat slides his hands up Dave’s torso, feeling every inch as though committing every curve to memory, as if he didn’t already have it burned into his fingertips forever. He brings his hands up to Dave’s arms, grabbing each wrist and pinning them down on either side of Dave’s head, pressing his arms deep into the mattress, like he’s scared if he doesn’t _hold him down_ he’ll disappear again.

“Fuck, Dave,” Karkat moans, breaking the kiss only so he can run his lips across Dave’s cheek, down his jawline, his neck--god, Dave’s scent always drove him wild, and it was so strong at his neck, right by his collarbone. Karkat plants deep, wet kisses on every patch of skin there, drinking him in, feeling as though he could swallow Dave whole.

Christ, he’s already hard as stone. Not like he can really blame himself--it had been a long time since Karkat had been on a date, let alone one that escalated to this. And even when they did, it was nothing like this. He’d always tried so hard not to compare, but he couldn’t help it-- _nothing_ compared to the way Dave made him feel.

Karkat grinds his hips into Dave with a thick groan and he kisses his way back up Dave’s neck and captures his lips again, sucking Dave’s bottom lip between his teeth.

“I want you so fucking bad,” Karkat’s voice comes out in a needy growl, he’s so desperate.

Fuck, Karkat cages him in so perfectly- Dave fights down the kneejerk panic reaction at being under someone again, pressing up into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Karkat's neck, moaning helplessly at Karkat's deep, bruising kiss.

This, _this_ is what he wanted, what he's needed all these years, aching and desperate- just Karkat, every other touch wrong ( _so wrong_ ). Karkat kisses hungrily, like he wants to touch and taste and feel every inch of Dave, and Dave is helpless to resist, has always been helpless against him.

Karkat's hands are like brands, hot and burning as they run over Dave's chest and Dave shudders.

"Karkat-" He whines, but then Karkat is taking Dave's wrists and _pinning them to the bed_ and Dave gasps, heat tearing through him as he stares up at Karkat, a familiar sensation creeping over him like an old friend. His fingers flex helplessly, pressing up just enough to test the strength of Karkat's grip- but Karkat _has him_ , Karkat has him and wants him here, enough to trap him and it has his heart beating faster, harder in his chest.

He lets his head drop to the side as Karkat kisses his neck, quivering and arching up into the wet presses of his mouth, wanting it, wanting it, and when Karkat grinds against him Dave hooks both of his legs around Karkat's hips and rolls his hips up, sensual and desperate, grinding himself up against Karkat, rocking their cocks together.

"Please-" He moans, shuddering as Karkat sucks on his lip. "Karkat, please- I want you-" He shudders, tugging at one wrist, wanting it free, wanting to reach out and grab and hold Karkat-

"Make me feel it." Dave begs. He wants Karkat, wants his bites, wants his hickies and his bruises, wants Karkat to fuck him rough and hard, making Dave his again, forcing everyone else away, everyone else out of Dave until it's just Karkat, Karkat, Karkat. "I want to feel you, Karkat- fuck me up, please-"

Karkat _groans_ when Dave hooks his legs onto his hips and matches his grinds _so_ fucking perfectly. He can feel that Dave is just as hard as he is, both of them trapped achingly behind their jeans.

 _Make me feel it_ Dave begs, his voice painfully sweet, and Karkat’s insides turn to jello at the sound. He can feel Dave trying to pull one hand free, and he automatically lets go. He was about to anyway, as he needs his hands free for what he’s about to do next.

Karkat straddles Dave’s hips, pinning him down now in a different way, sitting up and grabbing the bottom of his long-sleeve shirt. He pulls it over his head in that cross-armed way he _knows_ Dave loves, making sure to roll his hips with the movement so he grinds their cocks together deliciously as the small of his back curves, and then he’s free of his shirt, shaking the hair out of his eyes and tossing his shirt across the room, not caring where it falls.

“ _Off_ ,” Karkat demands, his voice heavy with lust now, as he grabs Dave’s flannel shirt and _yanks_ him upward.

He pulls Dave into a half-sitting position, bending down to meet him halfway to catch his lips in another messy, greedy kiss, and then he grabs the tattered hem of Dave’s shirt and pulls it up and over his head, then tosses it carelessly over his shoulder. The sight of Dave half-naked, breathless and flushed beneath him makes the pit of his stomach churn with excitement and desire. He wants to lick an unending stripe from Dave’s navel up to his mouth, but instead pulls him in for another deep, long kiss, their tongues dancing together.

Then he _shoves_ Dave back down into the mattress--and for a moment Karkat wonders if maybe he’s being _too_ rough, but he can’t stop himself--

Dave wanted Karkat to make him _feel_ it, right? Well, he’d do just that, and _more_.

Karkat runs his hands up Dave’s chest again, now deliciously bare. Something within him _sparks_ seeing how Dave’s flesh gets covered in goosebumps at his touch, and Karkat bends down and kisses Dave, slow and gentle, up his chest, along his delicate collarbone.

Then he looks up through his lashes at Dave’s beautiful flushed face, his eyes already blown wide with desire, likely a twin to Karkat’s own.

“Where do you want to feel me first?” he asks.

Karkat lets go and Dave starts to reach for him but then everything is happening _so much_ , Karkat straddling him and _fuu-uck_ there's that motion, so familiar it aches, the rolling grind against his cock making him groan desperately, hands finding Karkat's thighs and gripping desperately for something to hold onto.

Then Karkat is stripping Dave and Dave yelps in shock as he's shoved to the bed and it's _perfect_ it feels so good, getting pushed around and _kissed_ and he doesn't have to think, he just has to _feel_ , feel Karkat pushing him into the bed, pinning him down and _touching_ him, stoking the fire beneath his skin, burning away all the chill in his veins, burning away the thorns circling his throat, freeing his voice.

Dave's hands find Karkat's hair as Karkat kisses up his chest (fuck-), hands smoothing over his skin (don't think about how lanky he is-), hunger in his gaze as he stares at Dave like he's something _desirable_ , something important.

"Everywhere-" Dave blurts, his fingers going tight in Karkat's hair. "Wait-" He fumbles for his shades, hesitating for the tiniest moment before yanking them off, arching and straining to drop them on the stand at the end of his bed before collapsing down onto the bed under Karkat again.

His vivid red eyes blink up at Karkat, so terribly exposed that he almost regrets it, but- he grabs Karkat and pulls him into a hard kiss, licking his way into Karkat's mouth, rough and desperate.

" _Everywhere_ -" Dave breathes into Karkat's mouth, desperate. "I don't care- just _please_."

_Everywhere_ , Dave begs, as if Karkat wasn’t already going to do just that, and he sighs in pleasure as Dave’s lithe, long fingers twist into his hair, pulling just the way he likes it--

Then Dave is pulling off his shades, twisting to set them off to the side, and then, _oh--there he is._ It’s like he’s seeing him for the first time all over again, _really_ seeing him. That unmistakable, piercing red gaze that still turns Karkat’s bones to slush. A flash of _panic_ flits across Dave’s face for the briefest moment, he must feel so exposed without his shades to hide behind. Then Karkat is pulled into another kiss, Dave’s tongue forcing it’s way into his mouth roughly, and Karkat groans against their wet mouths. It tastes like sugar-sweet coffee, and cinnamon.

He wants to know what the rest of Dave tastes like, and if it’s just like he remembers.

Karkat breaks away from the kiss, placing a few quick kisses to the tip of Dave’s nose, his fluttering eyelids, his forehead. Then he moves down, kissing all the way, stealing another kiss on Dave’s lips on the way because he just can’t help himself, and the lower he goes his kisses turn into love bites. He nips his way down Dave’s long, slender neck, and when he reaches his collarbones he stays there a little while, taking his time to suck the thin flesh just underneath the protruding bone into his mouth, coming away wet. He licks his lips to break the trail of saliva that travels from his lips down to the purpling flesh below Dave’s collarbone.

Satisfied, he continues down, kissing at the flesh _just_ beside Dave’s nipple before bringing it into his mouth and sucking, biting, then pulling away. Down, down, down, licking and biting and kissing all across Dave’s shivering stomach, leaving another mark just by his navel, right above his jeans.

Karkat looks up at Dave as he starts to unbutton Dave’s jeans. His hands fumble slightly with the button and zipper, he hadn’t even realized his hands were shaking. He pulls the zipper down, then hooks his fingers into the waistband of Dave’s jeans, as well as the boxers underneath.

“Is this okay?” Karkat asks, his voice raspy with need, but he needs to hear it from Dave’s lips. He already said _everywhere_ , but he needs to hear it even so, so he can keep convincing himself this is real, that Dave is really _real_ , that he still _wants_ him.

Karkat presses kisses across Dave's body, his face, his neck (and _god_ Dave wants him to bite down, wants him to grab his shoulder and just fuck him up, claim him for real, like he's only _Karkat's_ , he's _breathless_ for it-), sucking over his collarbone, making Dave moan helplessly.

He jerks at the attention to his nipple, a little yelp that turns into a throaty noise at the bite, but then Karkat keeps doing down and Dave whines, no, _no_ , where is he-

but then Karkat is biting and licking and kissing and Dave moans desperately, hips bucking up towards Karkat, please _please_ -

He has to let go of Karkat's hair to slam one hand over his mouth, the other pressing up into his pillow next to his head, nodding quickly as Karkat asks. Always so fucking careful, so concerned- he's so fucking good, Karkat is so fucking good, Dave doesn't deserve him-

"Please." Dave begs, feeling like a broken record. _Please, please, Karkat, please, I want you, I need you, please-_ To his horror, tears are gathering in his eyes again. "P-lease Karkat, I need- I need to feel you-" _I need you, God, please don't stop, please don't_ ** _leave me-_**

“Hey, hey, hey, shhh…” Karkat voice is still husky with desire but goes soft and quiet when he sees fresh tears spring to Dave’s eyes, and _fuck_ it’s even harder seeing him cry like this, without his shades in the way…

Karkat crawls back up the bed so he can kiss the tears leaking out of Dave’s eyes, hoping he can banish them for good. He keeps his body pressed close to Dave’s, one hand brushing through Dave’s bangs, while his other hand draws slow patterns on his stomach, his lips pulling into a small smile when he can feel Dave’s stomach twitch under his caress.

“Don’t cry, baby,” The old pet name they had for each other falls out of Karkat’s mouth before he can stop it, and his chest constricts. There was no need to hold it back, he figured. This was all inevitable, after all. “You can have me, Dave, I promise. But I...you gotta relax for me first, okay? I need to know you’re okay.”

Karkat's kissing him again, kissing his tears, trying to make him feel better and god Dave wants nothing more than to sink into his arms and let Karkat kiss it all better, to let Karkat press him into the bed and force all his tears out until Dave's dried up and a rational human being again.

 _Baby_. Dave feels a sob leave him and he wraps both of his arms around Karkat, holding him tight. "Fuck." He says weakly. "Fuck- I'm-"

He shudders, pressing his face to Karkat's shoulder. "Sorry." He gets out, nodding shakily, trying to relax. "I'm just-" He sniffles and reaches up, lying back down against the bed to look up at Karkat.

"I'm so fucking happy to see you." Dave manages, voice thick, before he pulls Karkat into another deep, hungry kiss.

Karkat lets Dave kiss him, deep and slow, before he pulls away and smiles down at Dave, wiping the last remnants of tears from his cheeks.

“I’m happy to see you, too,” Karkat says in a low voice, talking in a hushed voice even though they’re the only people here, in this space. He feels as though he needs to be quiet, here, to keep Dave calm, to keep the bubble they’ve made from popping, for this whole dream to end.

What if this is just another one of Karkat’s vivid dreams? What if he was so dog-tired from staying up to finish his assignment, he forgot to set his alarm, or maybe even slept right through them? He’s probably in his dorm room right now, fast asleep, dreaming up this whole scenario.

Dave can’t possibly be real, be this perfect beneath him, telling Karkat he’s _happy_ to see him. It’s all Karkat ever wanted, so there’s no way it can be true.

But if this is a dream, then he hasn’t woken up yet. If he keeps breaking the proverbial fourth wall like this, he’s worried he really will wake up, and lose this forever. So he gives Dave another slow kiss, savouring it in case it’s the last one. Then he moves back down the bed again, moving Dave’s legs apart and settling himself between them. He gives Dave another look, and Dave only nods again, eagerly.

Karkat pulls off the rest of Dave’s clothing, his pants and boxers in one flourish, chucking them to some other corner of the room while giving Dave a cheeky look.

Finally, he looks down and takes in the sight of Dave’s cock, standing completely at attention and already dripping some precum. Karkat’s mouth fucking _waters_ at the sight, and he licks his lips, half to wet them and half just from _anticipation_.

Karkat lowers himself down onto his stomach, his arms on either side of Dave’s waist, keeping one hand on Dave’s hipbone and the other grasps Dave’s cock by the base. Dave shudders beneath him, and Karkat looks up at him one last time, drinking in the sight of Dave looking down at him with half-lidded eyes filled with need, before he opens his mouth and brings the head of Dave’s cock to his lips, and sucks.

He focuses his attention on the head first, licking up the precum, swirling his tongue around. He gives the base of Dave’s cock a light squeeze as he starts to take more of Dave into his mouth, sinking deeper onto his cock. When his nose bumps into the knuckle of his own hand, he removes it, placing that hand on Dave’s other hip, and then sinking further, until he’s down to the base.

Yep. Just like he remembered.

Karkat gives one last thank you to the wonders of muscle memory, and then starts to bop up and down.

Dave sniffles a little as Karkat wipes his cheeks but nods, his heart squeezing tight in his chest. He just wants to touch Karkat, hold Karkat, _breathe_ in the same space as him, have anything that Karkat will give him.

The words almost slide off his tongue, but he holds them back as Karkat kisses him again, gentle and soft and _tender_ and Dave wants to cling to him, but he can't stop the heat simmering under his skin, building hotter and hotter with every touch that Karkat presses across his skin.

When Karkat slides down Dave's body again, Dave presses his hand to his mouth and nods at his inquiring glance, only to yelp in surprise as whoops there went his pants and his boxers and oh _fuck_ god Karkat's just sinking down onto his cock like it's nothing and Dave _moans_ , helpless and desperate as Karkat takes Dave into his mouth.

Fuck, he wants to buck his hips, he wants to writhe, his legs twitching and trying to move but Karkat must remember how Dave could never stay still when he feels good, could never just relax and let Karkat give him head because he pins down Dave's hips and makes him helpless.

Dave can only arch and moan, one hand digging into the sheets, the other pressing over his mouth as he huffs and moans. "Mmmgh- f- fu-uh _ck_ Karkat, fuck- mm- gh-" He sinks his teeth into his forearm with a whine, trying to muffle himself.

Dave keens under Karkat’s administrations, his back arching, his legs twitching. Karkat presses his thumbs into the dip in Dave’s hips, holding him in place. He always _loved_ that Dave could never stay fucking still during stuff like this, it only showed Karkat he was doing his job right. But he also loved holding Dave down, having him at his mercy.

The thought makes Karkat’s cock twitch where it’s still trapped in his pants, as though it’s trying to remind him it’s there, that this _isn’t fair_. He grinds his hips into the mattress to relieve some of the built-up tension, but keeps his attention on Dave. All he cares about right now is seeing Dave come apart in shreds beneath him.

Karkat looks up as he releases Dave’s cock with a wet _pop_ , seeing Dave covering his face with his arm, muffling his sounds. He _whines_ as he bites into his own arm, trying to hold back his sounds of pleasure.

Oh, that wouldn’t do.

Karkat sits up, wrapping one hand around Dave’s length and giving it a few pumps as he leans forward and grasps Dave’s wrist with his other hand, pulling it away from his face. With the hand jerking Dave’s dick, he swipes his thumb across Dave’s slit, smearing more precum around his sensitive head.

“I haven’t seen your face for five years,” Karkat murmurs, “Don’t hide it from me.”

He pumps Dave’s cock steadily in his hand, gradually tightening his grasp and building up speed, watching what it does to him.

“And don’t muffle your sounds, either.” Karkat continues, “I want to hear each and every one.”

Dave grinds his teeth into his arm as Karkat holds him to the bed, a desperate keen in his throat, eyes squeezing shut. He twitches and shakes against Karkat's hold, moaning helplessly.

Karkat pulls off and Dave gives a little helpless sob. Karkat's mouth is so fucking warm, so wet and gentle, his hand so firm as it rubs over the tip of his cock, making his leg jolt from the little pulse that rockets through his gut.

But Karkat's words- Dean flushes hard, his gut clenching at Karkat's words.

 _Don't hide yourself. Don't_ **_quiet_ ** _yourself._

Dave trembles, squeezing his eyes closed, before pulling his arm away from his mouth.

"F-uuh-uck-" He gasps, as Karkat's hand gets tighter. "Karkat, _baby_ , I can't-" Dave drops his head against the pillow, heel dragging on the bed. "It's too good, I can't-"

He forces himself up on one elbow, reaching a trembling hand down to Karkat, sinking his fingers into Karkat's hair, panting.

Not a _single_ one- not a single one of the people he had slept with could compare to what Karkat does to him, the feelings that Karkat yanks from his chest, the heat Karkat builds in him, the fire in his belly, in his heart.

"I'm not gonna last, Karkat." Dave manages, blinking through his watery gaze. "Fuck- I _need_ you, Karkat, please-" He wants Karkat, wants him to press into Dave, split him open, burn him up from the inside until there's nothing left but warmth, heat and Karkat and the ache of Karkat inside him.

Karkat’s throat closes up when he hears the pet name from Dave for the first time. Fuck, is he really getting misty-eyed while he’s got his hand wrapped around Dave’s cock, just because he called him _baby_ again? Christ, turns out he is, he can feel his eyes burning.

Karkat scrubs at his eyes with his free hand, before swooping down and catching Dave’s mouth in a searing kiss. “Tell me how you want me then, baby.”

Karkat wants so much all at once he doesn’t know which one to choose. He wants to sink down onto Dave’s cock and ride him into the mattress, relish the feeling of being _full_ of him again. Another part of him wants to work Dave open and fill him himself, fuck him absolutely senseless. Both options make Karkat’s blood run hot in his veins, make his cock twitch and _ache_ with desire.

“You want to cum inside me?” Karkat breathes against Dave’s lips, squeezing the base of Dave’s cock to hold his impending orgasm at bay as they decide what to do, “Or do you want me to fuck you until you see stars?”

Dave gasps at the hot kiss, arching up with a low moan in his throat at the heat, the force behind it.

He lets Karkat press him down into the bed, shivering underneath his weight. He grips Karkat's hair tightly, his eyes blown wide, panting against Karkat's lips, chest shuddering.

Fuck, this close he can see every little speck in Karkat's eyes, smell his scent (and _god_ how that makes his heart _ache_ ), the heat from his body leeching into Dave, the press of skin on skin lighting up and making his entire body tingle.

He moans helplessly at Karkat's question. "Oh, _fuck_ , Karkat, please fuck me-" He begs. "I want you inside me, so fucking bad-" He pulls Karkat into another, desperate kiss, "- you have no idea, baby-" he gasps against Karkat's mouth, "-please, I need you, please fuck me-"

Karkat takes his hand off Dave’s cock so he can cup Dave’s face in both hands and return Dave’s kisses with equal desperation.

They kiss like that for a while, Dave _begging_ each time Karkat comes up for air.

_I need you. I need you._

“Shh, I’ve got you,” Karkat whispers against Dave’s open mouth, kissing at the corner of his lips. “I’ll give you anything you want, baby.”

Instead of asking awkwardly like a fucking dingus and killing the mood, Karkat keeps the reins of control in his hands and decides to take some initiative in looking for supplies, leaning across Dave to pull open a drawer on the bedside table, rooting around for a few seconds before—bingo. He comes back up with a bottle of lube, and gives a little amused scoff to see it’s flavoured.

Karkat sets the bottle on the bed and then gets up, he needs these fucking pants off _yesterday_. He makes quick work of them, sliding his jeans and boxers down his legs and kicking them both across the floor. Then he crawls back onto the mattress and situates himself between Dave’s legs again, grabbing the bottle of lube and popping the cap.

“Of course you’ve got apple-flavoured lube,” Karkat says, his tone warm with affection as he squeezes a generous amount onto the palm of his hand. He snaps the cap back in place, puts the bottle to the side, and works the lube into both his hands.

With one hand he gently takes hold of Dave’s cock again, making sure not to stimulate him too much. He can tell Dave’s already close to bursting, and he doesn’t want him to. Not yet. Not until they can get there _together_.

He squeezes the base of Dave’s cock as he uses his other hand to hoist up one of Dave’s long, slender legs, and drape it on his shoulder. Then he starts to run his slick index finger down towards Dave’s entrance, rubbing around his hole in a gentle but firm massage.

Dave trembles through each press of Karkat's lips. He feels raw, stripped bare, _undone_. Karkat hasn't even fucked him yet and _yet_ \- he's so fucking close to just being shoved over that edge, damn near vibrating out of his skin.

He feels pathetic- he used to be so fucking composed and put together and able to be fucking _cool,_ all his old masks standing up under all abuse (most abuse, _don't think about that right now_ -), but here he is, weeping so easily, just from Karkat's touch.

Finally, Karkat pulls away and Dave takes in deep breaths, trying to calm himself, trying to restore his equilibrium, get some kind of control over himself.

He's feeling less gutted, less shaky by the time that Karkat settles back between his legs (pants gone, he _lloo_ there-), lube in hand, and he's able to crack a joke without his _voice_ cracking, giving Karkat a wobbly little grin,

"I mean yeah, of course- you expected something nasty like _banana_? What do you take me for some kind of he-eaaathen-?" He moans, head falling back as Karkat squeezes his cock, hikes his leg up.

His eyes flutter shut, hips tilting into the press of Karkat's finger. "Fuck..." He breathes, hole flexing in response to the touch. "Feels good, Karkat..." The touch is sending little sparks up his spine- putting a shiver through his bones.

"Gimme it, I can take it- come _on_ Karkat-" Dave whines, wiggling slightly. He feels a little more surefooted, now that he's had a minute to recover, and he wants Karkat to _fuck_ him already, he wants Karkat's dick in him approximately twenty minutes ago.

“So fucking impatient,” Karkat sighs over-dramatically as he kneads around Dave’s entrance with the pad of his finger. “You haven’t changed a bit in that regard.”

So much about Dave has changed. He’s never been this raw and vulnerable with Karkat before. Sure, he’d let his walls down over the years but never like _this_. The last five years of Dave’s life are still a complete mystery to Karkat. Something happened that _changed_ Dave, most of it in ways that made a rock of concern and fear form in the pit of Karkat’s stomach.

On the other hand, as foreign as this open, vulnerable Dave was to Karkat, it was also _thrilling_ , watching Dave come apart so easily beneath him. To hear him begging him for more.

How could he deny him anything?

Karkat pushed his index finger easily into Dave thanks to the generous amount of lube he’d coated his hands with. He worked him open for a few moments before deciding Dave could handle more. Karkat added another finger, pressing against Dave’s walls, coating them with the slick lube, getting him nice and open and wet.

By the time he’s three fingers deep, Dave _thrashing_ beneath him now, Karkat could feel his own poor, untouched cock _oozing_ precum. He refused to touch himself, wanting the first thing his cock felt to be Dave.

He grabbed Dave’s other leg and brought it up onto his other shoulder, still pushing his three fingers deep inside Dave. He made sure to only work Dave open, avoiding his prostrate as he did so, not letting him stimulate him that far, afraid to push him over the edge. Karkat wanted his cock to be what got him there.

Now that he had Dave worked open, his legs propped up on Karkat’s shoulders, leaving him completely at Karkat’s mercy, Karkat grabbed the bottle of lube again with his free hand and popped the cap open. He slowly pulled his fingers out of Dave, then poured more lube into the palm of his hand.

Karkat was breathing hard, his heartbeat racing as he stared down at Dave through half-lidded eyes as he slid the lube along his length, a groan building in his throat as his cock _lurched_ at _finally_ being touched.

Then he held the base of his cock steady as he got into position, keeping one hand on Dave’s leg as he positioned himself at Dave’s entrance. He turned his head to the side to place a quick kiss to Dave’s knee, and then he started to push himself inside.

Dave gives Karkat a little mock-pout at being called _impatient_ (which, if he's being honest, is _true_ but it's the principle of the thing-), but then his expression flies apart as Karkat finally just puts his finger in Dave, _finally_ -

Karkat grinds and rocks his finger, then two, into Dave, twisting and pulling moans from his throat and he wants to muffle them so badly, they're so _embarrassing_ and whiney, but Karkat said not to so he _can't._

It just makes it even hotter, clutching at the pillow under his head with one arm, the other sliding over his sheets, looking for something to grab onto as Karkat gives him a _third_ finger, making Dave choke and gasp, arching, begging,

"Fuck, Karkat, please- come on, fuck me, fuck me- please, god I want your dick come on shove that fucking thing into me please, fuck-"

And the bastard, the _fucking bastard_ isn't even fingering him properly, just opening him up and Dave's _already like this_ , already desperate and burning and _god how does Karkat always do this to him-_

Dave slumps against the pillow, breathing shakily as Karkat pulls his fingers free.

"Come on." He begs. "Karkat-" He shudders at the kiss to his knee, and then-

 _fuck_ Karkat's slipping inside, he's pressing _into Dave_ and Dave can't fucking breathe, the heat of it flooding through him, stoking the fire in his belly, the stretch and flex and he can't move, Karkat has him held in place by his legs over Karkat's shoulders but Dave want Karkat to just plunge in deep, to fuck him into the bed, to completely _wreck_ him.

Dave clenches down around the shape of Karkat's dick as he bottoms out, and feels his eyes go misty.

He can feel Karkat's heartbeat.

Panting, if he clenches down and focuses, he can feel it, can feel the rapid pulse of blood as it moves through Karkat, and it makes his heart kick up a notch in response at how fast it is.

"Karkat." Dave whispers. "Come on. Fuck me hard, baby." He wants Karkat to grip his legs until they bruise, using Dave mercilessly. "Fuck me like-" he laughs a little, his head lolling to the side.

"Fuck me like you've got five years of missed sex to make up for."

Karkat _groans_ as he pushes himself slowly all the way inside of Dave, and then he hisses through his teeth as Dave clenches around his cock, the sensation and the _tightness_ blurring Karkat’s vision for a moment.

Karkat laughs breathlessly at Dave’s remark. Fuck him like he’s got five years to make up for, huh? He wonders if Dave truly understands the _weight_ behind those words. On all the dates and hookups Karkat has had in the five years since he and Dave were together, nothing ever compared to the way Dave set his whole body on fire. He’d missed every last thing about having sex with Dave, right down to the way Dave could never _shut the fuck up_ when he wanted it bad enough.

Dave is quiet beneath him now as Karkat keeps them connected, just gently rolling his hips into Dave, savouring the sensation of filling him up like this after going so long without. But there’s an undeniable _want_ in that piercing red gaze, an expectation hanging between them now as Dave tells him just how he wants Karkat to fuck him.

And Karkat is happy to oblige.

He pulls out of Dave, all the way out, listening to each and every sound that the motion pulls out of Dave. Then Karkat leans down, Dave’s legs still on his shoulders, so this position practically folds Dave in half beneath him. Karkat presses a hard kiss to Dave’s lips, cutting off his babble, as he lines his cock back up to Dave’s entrance. He holds the base of his cock at the ready, and squeezes Dave’s thigh _hard_ with his other hand as he finally breaks off the kiss.

“Then you might want to hold the fuck on to me.”

God, Karkat's _laugh_ , breathless and- fuck, and _perfect_ , makes Dave's heart skip a beat. His words are all vanished, quiet in the face of Karkat just slowly rocking his cock into Dave, a deep press in his belly, up his spine that has him sighing softly, staring up at Karkat with a soft ache in his chest, like the feeling of a just-pressed bruise.

And then Karkat's pulling _out_ -? "Karkat?" Dave moans in confusion, only to squeak as Karkat basically _folds him in half_ and fuck, he's going to be able to fuck him so deep like this and _mm_ fuck, that's Karkat's mouth on his, cutting off the spill of words out his mouth.

"Aw, Karkat come o _n_ oh fuck, holy shit I please just fucking give it to m _mmhmph_ -"

The squeeze on his thigh makes his eyes flutter, a shudder running through him because _please_ god is Karkat finally going to fuck him-

_“Then you might want to hold the fuck on to me.”_

Oh god. Dave sucks in a desperate breath, bringing both arms up to drape them around Karkat's neck, the position awkward with his legs up there as well but Dave could not give _less_ of a shit, not when he's about the get the dicking down from his (ex???) boyfriend that he's been wanting for _literal_ years.

"Karkat, if you don't hurry up and fuck me I migh-" His voice cuts off into a strangled, yelping keen as Karkat shoves back in.

Karkat doesn’t let Dave finish his next sentence as he shoves himself back inside with a hard thrust of his hips, all the way in until he hears their hips slap together.

 _“Fuck_ , Dave,” Karkat sighs as he fills Dave up again, “Almost forgot how good you felt.”

Karkat takes one of Dave’s legs and moves it carefully off his shoulder--Dave’s one flexible motherfucker and that is giving Karkat a _lot_ of ideas and as much as he likes having Dave completely helpless and pliable like this, he likes the idea of Dave having to _cling_ to him desperately while Karkat fucks him hard into the mattress.

He plants a few more kisses to Dave’s inner thigh before he moves his other leg off his shoulder too, allowing Dave to wrap his arms around Karkat’s neck properly. Karkat slides his hands down Dave’s chest until he rests both hands on Dave’s hips, squeezing them firmly as he goes in for another kiss.

Without breaking the kiss, and while he _grinds_ his thumbs into Dave’s hipbones, Karkat thrusts again, short and hard, grunting against Dave’s lips at the motion. He breaks the kiss, buries his face into the crook of Dave’s shoulder, and thrusts again, even harder, _grinding_ his hips _deep_ against Dave’s, pushing him into the mattress. Karkat can already feel sweat gathering on his brow, and Dave’s delectable scent is even _stronger_ now by his neck with the headiness of sex, and it makes Karkat _moan_. He runs his tongue up Dave’s neck as he thrusts and thrusts, placing sloppy kisses and bites without a care of how hard he bites down now, too far gone to be careful.

With each thrust they both _lurch_ on the sheets, the small dorm room bed rocks against the floor, the old springs in the mattress creak, the headboard hits the wall with a dull _thunk_. Karkat builds up the tempo, his brain in a haze, the sweet and salty smell of Dave’s scent and sweat filling his lungs. The _sounds_ Dave makes for him, unabashed, the hands grabbing fistfuls of his hair, _pulling_ \--

He wants it to last forever, but his body is already betraying him.

“ _Dav--e,_ ” Karkat’s voice breaks through an overexerted moan as he builds up even more speed, chasing his orgasm, “Cl-- _close_ , fff- _fuck_ \--”

Dave is left trembling as Karkat praises him, breath stolen by the thrust and chest tight from- well. From Karkat.

He can only moan weakly as Karkat shifts them, thank fuck, down goes his legs and he can shift his grip to cling to Karkat properly.

But _oh_ , the searing gaze that Karkat gives him as he presses kisses to Dave's inner thigh- it makes Dave go shivery and hollow on the inside, a deep craving for _more_.

He presses up eagerly into the kiss and a shocked keen is torn from his throat as Karkat slams into him, hands gripping tight (so painfully, _perfectly_ tight-) on Dave's hips to keep him pinned as he grinds hard into Dave.

" _Engh_ \- fu-uuck-k-, _fuck_ -"

Dave can't do anything but lock his legs desperately around Karkat, moaning high and needy as Karkat starts fucking him, starts _really_ fucking him, rough and punishing and _please_ and hard and Dave's being ground into the mattress and he's clawing at Karkat's shoulders, he _knows_ his nails are going to leave marks and there's a hunger in his chest that croons at the idea that even if- somehow, if Karkat walks away (and why wouldn't he), Dave will have left something on him, even for just the tiniest bit of time.

"Nngh- guh- uh- Karkat, Ka-arrkat-"

But those thoughts shatter and fall apart as Karkat starts layering attention on his neck, his sensitive fucking neck, biting and licking and nipping and it _hurts_ so fucking good, _so_ fucking good that he sobs and bucks and tries to meet Karkat's thrusting, the air between them dizzyingly hot as he gasps for breath, unable to match his pace, his relentless thrusts, toes curling and flexing behind Karkat's hips.

" _Please_ -" Dave sobs, overwhelmed and helpless in the face of Karkat's entire domination, sliding on the sweat-drenched sheets, grabbing at his back, his hair, his shoulders, _anything_ , arching up desperately. "P _lease_ Karkat- wanna- wanna fu-uckin-g _cum_ -" He shakes, he wants to touch himself, he doesn't know if he's _allowed_ , he wants to be so good for Karkat, but he _needs_ it, needs to feel Karkat cum.

"In me, in me, cum in- _me_ -" Dave chants, yanking on Karkat's hair, arching up against him, "please, _please_ , in me-"

Karkat can _feel_ how close Dave is, his muscles clenching and unclenching relentlessly around Karkat’s dick as he arches and shudders beneath him. Karkat pulls away from Dave’s wet, red, _abused_ neck so that he can keep his eyes on Dave’s face.

Dave is _sobbing_ , his face wet with sweat and tears, and he’s never looked more fucking beautiful and perfect to Karkat than right now.

Karkat wonders what’s tears and what’s sweat on his own face, too.

He slows his thrusts, more due to exhaustion than truly _wanting_ to let up, and he pulls his hands away from Dave’s hips so that he can bring one hand underneath Dave’s upper back and pull him upwards. Karkat’s other hand goes to Dave’s cock, which is absolutely _weeping_ precum now, and gives it a firm squeeze around it’s flushed, dripping head.

“I’m so close, Dave, so _fucking_ close,” Karkat breathes, fisting Dave’s cock. He leans forward and messily kisses the side of Dave’s mouth. “Cum _with_ me, baby.”

Karkat holds Dave close, keeping their lips pressed together as he begins to thrust back into him again with a new burst of energy, matching the pace he pumps Dave’s cock between them.

God, god- _god_ \- Karkat's holding him and he's touching Dave's cock and _stroking_ it, he's giving _permission_ for Dave to cum and it's like a punch to the gut, Dave clinging helplessly to Karkat, shuddering and trembling as Karkat slows from his rough, punishing pace.

"Gonna cum-" Dave gasps, arching into the kiss, desperate tears trailing down his cheeks. "Karkat, _please_ -"

He sinks his hand into Karkat's hair, holding him close, desperately kissing him, shoving his tongue into Karkat's mouth, licking and mouthing- desperate, sloppy, moaning into Karkat's mouth.

"Come on, baby-" Dave _whines_. "Gonna- gon-" he arches, yanking at Karkat's hair, clawing across his back as he cums, his vision going white, pleasure streaking through him as he cums, head tossing back, squeezing down around Karkat, shaking as he gasps and pants wetly, chest heaving.

He sobs as all tension leaves him, going limp against the bed, limp in Karkat's hold, thick tears rolling down his cheeks.

When Dave calls out for him again, calls him _baby_ , it’s over. With a drawn out, aching moan Karkat cums what feels like the hardest he’s ever cum in his life. Dave’s nails rake across Karkat’s back and Karkat hisses through his teeth at the burning sensation of it as he watches Dave throw his head back. Dave’s cock pulses again and again in Karkat’s hands and cum streaks across both their stomachs as Dave writhes around and shudders as he cums just as hard as Karkat does.

Then Karkat is all over him, _pouncing_ toward Dave with a guttural moan as he all but attacks Dave’s lips with his own, pinning him into the mattress with his full weight. He kisses everywhere he can possibly reach, tasting the salt from Dave’s tears and sweat all over his face. Karkat kisses his mouth hungrily, messily, his cheeks, his closed eyes, across his jaw, up into his hair. His body is going limp, absolutely spent from what is hands-down the most _mindblowing_ sex Karkat has ever had in his _life_. His cock is half-hard inside Dave now, but he doesn’t have the strength to pull out, or move any other part of his body, for that matter.

He snakes both arms around Dave while he still has the energy left in him to do so, still placing lazy, soft kisses into Dave’s hair as he slowly comes down from his high.

“Well, D? Was I worth th’ wait…?” Karkat asks, his words slurring together, his nose nuzzling against Dave’s sweat-soaked skin.

God, Karkat's cum is so fucking hot inside him, perfect and spilling so fucking _deep_ , but Dave doesn't get even a minute to process because Karkat is pressing him into the bed and _devouring_ him.

Dave gasps into Karkat's mouth, moaning helplessly under the onslaught of kisses, his heart pounding in his chest. Every press feels like benediction, chasing more and more of his sins away, until it's just him and Karkat in their own little universe, Dave pressed into the bed under Karkat's weight, pinned so perfectly where he _belongs_.

Dave's fingers are weak and trembling as they smooth over Karkat's shoulders, through the sweat trails there, panting and trying to catch his breath.

"Worth it-" He breathes, slipping one hand into Karkat's hair, cradling his head where it's tucked into Dave's shoulder. "-more than... worth it."

Dave isn't lying. How could he? This trembling, desperate touch of his, the beating of his heart, this press of Karkat's skin on his own- it's searing into him, making him _whole_ again.

Dave gently tugs on Karkat's hair, bringing his head up. "Missed you so bad." He whispers, and pulls Karkat in for a slow, soft kiss. "So bad, baby," he breathes against Karkat's mouth, "'m so sorry."

He barely catches the words before they leave his mouth. _I love you._

Karkat feels Dave giving his hair a gentle pull, and despite how heavy and tired he suddenly feels it takes no effort at all to lift his head so Dave can kiss him, soft and slow and sensual. Anything Dave wants.

Dave’s apologizing again but...Karkat can’t remember what he’s saying sorry for. Were they fighting about something? His mind is in a blissful, dazed fog, he can’t think straight...

“Don’ be sorry, babe,” Karkat sighs heavily, burrowing his face into Dave’s shoulder again. “Jus’...glad yer back.”

That’s right. Dave left. He was gone for so long. Why did he leave again? He still doesn’t know. Did he forget? Or has Dave still not told him?

“Never stopped lovin’ you, y’know,” Karkat mumbles, his voice muffled by exhaustion and Dave’s shoulder. “N’matter who I slep’ with, th’was never anything there, an’ could never get you outta my head...stuck on you. Still am. Still lov...”

Sleep pulls over him like an ocean tide, and his words fade into heavy breathing as Karkat falls fast asleep, hoping when he wakes it won’t take him from this dream.

Dave bites his lip as Karkat confesses, feeling a few more tears well up and roll down his cheeks.

Karkat never stopped loving him.

He slowly pets down Karkat's spine, smooth and reassuring. He presses his mouth into Karkat's hair and chokes out, _"I love you too, Karkat."_

Karkat's breathing is slow, his entire body draped on top of Dave, and the weight is reassuring, telling Dave that he's _here_ in this moment. He's tired, a warm contentment buzzing through his bones, but he doesn't feel the urge to sleep- unlike Karkat, who's always been a post-sex napper.

Dave smooths some hair away from Karkat's cheek, tilting his head down to watch Karkat's expression.

He'd been such a fucking fool. The stupidest, most idiot kid in the world to just panic and shove Karkat away, he should have figured something out, should have sent a letter at _least_ , but he was too fucking scared, too much of a coward and then it felt like it was too little, too late and he was better off just being miserable on his own forever.

Dave sighs, blinking through the next couple of tears. Fuck, he'd really like to stop crying right about now- there's no fucking reason for him to be _crying_ , everything's okay, or going to _be_ okay.

He lets the weight of Karkat's body press him into the bed and it feels good, just letting him be Dave's blanket. Dave is finally _warm_ again, the heat of Karkat's skin radiating through him.

Okay, it's actually a little gross now that they've come down from their high and are all sweaty but Dave is not moving Karkat for any fucking reason. Karkat is _here_ and he is _sleeping on Dave_ so Dave is going to shut up and appreciate it.

God. Karkat is so... _handsome_ now. Like, don't get Dave wrong, he was cute before, all round-cheeked and angry edges, but this Karkat's developed, lost that baby fat- and now hes _really fucking hot_.

Dave slowly runs his hands over Karkat, feeling the lines of his shoulders, the curve of his spine. Karkat's filled out, his shoulders are broader then Dave's, his body more... god, just more _put together_ than Dave's.

Dave knows he's a wreck. He knows it, okay? Every time John points out that hes not looking too hot Dave has the urge to snap back a bitter _"Thanks, its the trauma."_ He knows that he's lanky and unattractive, too pale, too sleep deprived, too.. everything.

Dave has never liked looking at himself in the mirror. There are days where he wont even check how he looks, wanting nothing more than to pick up a razor blade and just _cut_ , to get rid of all the parts that are ugly, that he hates, that look like _Bro_.

He's got Bro's nose. His handsome fucking cheekbones. Dave wants to cut them right out of his face, wants to be his own person, not seeing Bro's shadow in the mirror every fucking time he looks in it.

Honestly? If he didn't have John and Sollux as roommates? Dave probably would have picked up a blade a long time ago. The biggest thing stopping him is the idea that John or Sollux might find him doing it is fucking _humiliating_ and Dave is kind of grateful that they're there to stop him from doing it.

A sigh from Karkat pulls Dave out of his spiraling thoughts, brings him back to the present. He presses a kiss to Karkat's forehead.

 _He still loves me_. Dave thinks, heart aching in his chest. _Oh,_ ** _Karkat_** _. I'm so sorry._

When he wakes up, Dave will explain everything. Karkat deserves to know why Dave fucked his life up, why he did what he did, even though it was wrong. It was so fucking wrong and Dave has never stopped regretting it.

He presses his nose to Karkat's hair, breathing that familiar, reassuring scent of _Karkat_ , feeling his heart slow. It's been so long he was worried it would be weird- but Karkat smells exactly how Dave remembers- right on down to his shampoo scent.

Dave closes his eyes and lets himself drift, secure in Karkat's arms.


	3. Chapter 3

Karkat wakes up to the afternoon sun shining into his eyes, and for half a second he thinks _fuck I slept in and I am so very late for class oh fuck oh shit—_

Then, senses coming back to him one by one as consciousness comes back him in slow stages, he can see that this very much _not_ his dorm room, because otherwise he’d have his blackout curtains drawn. There’s none of his posters on the walls...they’re barren and a completely different colour, in fact. Karkat squeezes his eyes shut tight against the sun’s rays.

After sight, comes touch. Karkat’s arm is splayed out across _something_ , and his arm is moving up and down slowly as that something moves. Karkat cracks open one eye and his stomach drops.

That’s when the morning comes back to Karkat in a rush, and his eyes pop open as he _gawks_ at Dave Strider, his ex-boyfriend who he hasn’t seen or talked to in five years, lying beside him in bed, fast asleep.

The sensation that comes to Karkat is smell. Oh my god, the whole room reeks of _sex_ , Karkat is covered in dry sweat and _cum_ , and as he pulls away from Dave as quietly as possible, wincing at how the mattress creaks under his weight, he has another gut-wrenching realization.

Jesus fuck, he never _pulled out_. Curse his fucking post-coital snoozes all to hell, fuck fucking **_fuck_** —

Okay. Okay, okay, okay. This was cool. It was fine. Everything was okay. Maybe he could pull out without waking Dave up? God, fuck no, what was he thinking, Dave was such a light sleeper than a cat could sneeze a block down the street and he’d shoot up out of bed. Obviously he’d wake up from Karkat _pulling his dick out of him._

He desperately needs to get up, though. He needs to wash up, make sure he doesn’t have any fucking _drool_ on his face, not that anyone would be able to tell what with all the _other_ bodily fluids already caked to him.

Karkat’s heart is races, and clueless about what else to do, he just looks at Dave as though that’ll give him the answer.

And then all of Karkat’s anxieties fade away, and all he can focus on is Dave’s face.

His face is so relaxed in his sleep, and Karkat realizes with a sad pang in his chest that this is the most calm he’s seen Dave since the moment he saw him in the coffee shop this morning. With him asleep like this, not shrinking under Karkat’s gaze, Karkat is finally able to _really_ look at him, as unabashedly as he wants.

Fuck, Dave’s such a knockout. He’d always _had_ been, of course. Karkat never understood how a short, grumpy asshole like himself even got so lucky, having someone like Dave _like him._ Hell, he was shocked Dave had even wanted to be his _friend_ , let alone want to kiss Karkat’s ugly fucking mug.

Maybe absence truly does make the heart grow fonder, or Dave really was just _that_ unfair and went and got _even more attractive_ then when they were kids? Like how dare he.

Dave had always been lithe and long-limbed. As a teenager, he was wirey, a string bean in shades, but he made it work because that’s what Dave _did_. Over the years, he’d grown even taller, and it helped to balance out his proportions. Laying before Karkat now, backlit by the afternoon sun, Karkat’s heart is still racing but now it’s not from panic.

Dave’s chest slowly rises and falls in his sleep, and Karkat’s eyes scour across all his bare, golden skin, dappled by freckles. Karkat is suddenly given mental flashes of their, uh... _reunion_ , when he sees the bruises all over Dave’s skin. Karkat feels a tiny bit bad about ruining Dave’s nice skin, biting his lip as he eyes up Dave’s bruised hips, the hickey on his chest, and— _fucking god his NECK—_

Then he’s back up to Dave’s face again, watching as Dave’s lips part softly as he exhales, a little puff of breath coming out of him that makes Karkat smile at him warmly.

Karkat could lie here watching Dave sleep for the rest of life. But he _really_ needs to get up.

Karkat reaches over and brushes his fingers on Dave’s cheek. “Dave...?”

Dave isn't really sure when he passed out, but he must have at some point, because he's pulled back to awareness by a shifting of weight on the bed, fingers brushing over his cheek, and Karkat's voice quietly saying his name.

He blinks and then squints against the light, why the fuck did he leave his blinds open again? Shit.

But here's Karkat, looking so fucking handsome and perfect that Dave can't help himself, he just reaches out and pulls Karkat down into a gentle kiss.

Fuck. Is he allowed to do this? Will Karkat let him? He doesn't know, but-

but. There is a dick, still in his ass. Dave pulls back, making a weird face.

"Your pullout game is so fucking weak that it loops around and becomes incredibly fucking hot except for the fact that I am not turned on in the slightest right now." Dave says.

There's a throbbing in his head, a familiar post-crying ache but he can't bring himself to care about, because here's Karkat, in his arms, still looking at him with something other than contempt (for the time being).

Everything is damp and stinking and gross and he's going to need to wash his sheets and he should shower and change his clothes and send an email to Professer Maryam apologizing for missing class and he should get up and have a real conversation with Karkat but _Dave doesn't want to._ He just wants to stay like this for as long as he can have it.

Dave’s eyes flicker open, and Karkat’s stomach backflips. He squints in the harsh sunlight up at Karkat, until his eyes adjust and his expression fucking _melts_ into a look that makes Karkat’s breath hitch as if he’s about to cry again.

Dave pulls him down into a kiss and Karkat happily accepts, sighing against their mouths. Then suddenly Dave is pulling away with a rather incredulous expression and for a moment Karkat is concerned...and then he remembers, oh right, his dick is still in Dave’s ass.

Dave looks at him flippantly and makes a comment about his weak pullout game and—and something comes over Karkat in that moment. And he isn’t sure how to explain it.

Maybe it’s just the entire sequence of events that makes up what is probably the craziest morning of his entire life finally catching up to him. It’s all so ludicrous and impossible to look back on it. He was _convinced_ it would all be a dream. But then he woke up and Dave was still here.

And Dave is acting like _Dave_ again, the old Dave, _his_ Dave. His jokes from earlier that day had been laced with a nervous panic and followed up by a wince and weak laughter. But Dave delivers his quip now with that same sharp tongue Karkat remembers.

It’s all so overwhelming. Everything he’s feeling is so _much_ to process all at once, and Dave’s comment catches him off guard and he should be blushing up to his ears in shame, he can feel his face heating up, but then—

Karkat _laughs_.

He can’t remember the last time he laughed and meant it, and he doesn’t think he’s _ever_ laughed quite like this. It’s a loud belly laugh that bursts out of his mouth and finally makes him truly understand the phrase “burst into laughter” for the first time. And the fact he’s _laughing_ right now is so ridiculous that it only makes him laugh _harder_ , and he can’t make it stop. Tears are gathering in the corner of his eyes, his whole body shakes, his stomach _hurts_ , his head drops to Dave’s chest and he can’t _stop_.

Dave kinda wishes he could take back the quip once he catches the look on Karkat's face, but then Karkat's _laughing_ and his head his dropping as he shakes and the entire's situation is so ridiculous that it makes _Dave_ laugh and then they're just clinging to each other on Dave's bed, laughing like a pair of fucking loons because-

because _what the fuck_ , right? Who would ever expect to end up in this situation.

Their laugher starts to peter out, but then Dave snorts and it kicks them into another round of helpless, lighthearted laughing.

(Laughing with a dick up your ass feels very, very strange. Dave would like to make that known.)

Finally Dave sucks in a breath, smoothing his hands over Karkat's shoulders, his heart pounding- but it feels _good_. It's the best he's felt in fucking years (five, to be exact, ha-), like a weight's gone from his shoulders (and been put on his chest because hello, Karkat, you're not exactly _light_ -).

Finally, he tugs Karkat's head up, smiling helplessly at him, and gently bumps their foreheads together.

"Hey." Dave says softly. "You- you said it when you were passing out, so I don't know if you heard me back. Karkat- I love you so fucking much."

A spike of terror flits through him but he lassos that motherfucker like a boss and kicks it out the window. The metaphorical window. The metaphorical window that he then slams and locks shut using the knowledge of 'Karkat said it first so shut the hell up'.

Dave swallows. " _So_ fucking much, dude." He repeats. "Like- more than fucking rappers love strippers. Or country artists love singing about breakups. Or-"

“—more than Dane Cook loves being in rom-coms?” Karkat supplies, still coming down from their giggle fit.

If he really did confess to Dave as he was falling asleep (and WOW that’s embarrassing and he’ll have to kick his own ass for that fucking blunder later), then he must have _really_ been fucked out because he can’t remember for the life of him what he said. But he doesn’t deny it, because it’s _true_. And Dave—

Dave _loves him back_. _Still_ loves him, after all this time. He never stopped.

The thought of it brings more tears to Karkat’s eyes, but they’re mixed in with the ones he got from laughing too hard, so he wipes his eyes dry and then leans down to kiss Dave, soft and sweet.

“I love you, too, Dave. God, I’ve _been_ loving you...I had no idea what I said when I confessed to you before I passed out but, whatever it was, I meant it. And—and _this_ confession is probably going about as shit as the first one did, but with less slurring and drooling. Although drooling is still _very much_ on the table because you are still _very_ naked right now and uhh, I mean I haven’t eaten yet today so you just look like a buffet right now, a _snack_ , as you would say—am I talking too much? I’m fucking talking too much. I’m gonna pull my dick out of your ass now.”

Karkat pulls out, then finally rolls off of Dave because _god_ he must be crushing him, jesus shitting christ he’s such a dipass, also _oh my god_ their skin is basically stuck together Karkat was lying on Dave for so long, the sweat and cum was like fucking _glue_ , it even pulls on the hairs on Karkat’s stomach, _so fucking gross—_

“For the love of god please let’s take a shower,” Karkat groans.

Dave tilts his head up for the kiss, grinning at Karkat finishing the joke. Almost like nothing had happened. He's still grinning through Karkat's babble, his heart pounding, and wow Karkat just called him a snack, _thank_ you for that ego boost.

The fucking separation, though, is _disgusting_. They peel apart like craft cheese trying to get pulled off of a hot sidewalk and it's fucking nasty.

But hey, side effect of being separated is now Dave can see Karkat in his full glory, not just from one angle, and believe him he is _definitely_ taking in the sights, propping himself up on his elbows.

"What?" He glances up, broken out of his appreciation by Karkat's words. "Oh! Yeah, shower. That sounds like a sweet-ass idea."

He rolls out of bed and up to his feet like fucking ninja. A ninja who just got laid with the best sex of his life and _ouch_ eyup there's the muscle ache he was expecting. He winces slightly, straightening up and walking across the room to open his windows.

Shit stinks, yo. Gotta air it out.

"What time is it?" Dave finds his jeans and pulls his phone out, squinting at it. "Well, Egdork and Sollux shouldn't be back for... at least another hour and a half, if I remember their shit correctly, so we've got more than enough time for a shower." He plugs his phone in and straightens up, holding a hand out to Karkat.

Yes, he would really like to hold Karkat's hand right now as they take the probably fifteen steps to their bathroom. Is it juvenile? Perhaps, but Dave just really wants to be touching Karkat. All the time.

Dave seemed distracted for some reason before he answers Karkat, confirming that yes, a shower is a very good idea. Then Dave decides it’s a good idea to roll off the bed and jump onto his feet like he _didn’t_ just have a dick in his ass for the last what, _hour_? Maybe even longer? Karkat sits up, slowly, his muscles yelling at him. God, he can’t wait to get under some extremely hot water and work out all the kinks.

Karkat stretches his arms above his head, rubs the sleep from his eyes, cracks his neck. All the while sneaking glances at Dave as he moves about the room, still oh-so-very naked, wowza. Karkat takes a moment to admire Dave’s _incredible_ ass as Dave opens up the window to air the sex stench out of the room, looking away quickly when Dave turns around to get his phone out of his jeans to check the time.

Wait a second? Did he say—

“Hold on. Sollux?” Karkat takes Dave’s hand and letting him pull him up off the mattress, although he does most of the lifting (he knows Dave is actually pretty strong despite his delicate frame but Karkat’s not about to be a dick and make him heave his fat ass off the bed).

“Sollux _Captor_?” Karkat says incredulously, “Shit, I know that guy. We met in our first year, we took the same stupid coding class and he never let me forget he was better at coding than I was. All we ever did was talk shit to each other on Pesterchum instead of getting actual work done during class. We eventually started playing games online together too. But _fuck_ I can’t imagine having that motherfucker for a roommate, he must keep you up all hours of the night calling kids “n00bth” or whatever.”

Dave leads them into the bathroom, which is—well, it’s a college dorm bathroom, so it’s fucking tiny, and even _tinier_ with both of them in here. But Karkat’s never had a shower with Dave before, they never had the privacy to do so when they were younger, and he’s always wanted to try it.

Karkat also becomes aware of the fact he just talked Dave’s ear off all the way to the bathroom about his fucking roommate instead of, christ, literally anything else. He also realizes Dave held his hand the whole ten steps it took to get to the bathroom and—and that’s cute as fuck, wow. He feels his ears burning, a pleased feeling bubbling in his stomach knowing that Dave is finding excuses to touch him and keep touching him.

"Well shit, call that small world I guess." Dave says with an amused snort. "Could've put up a fucking missed connections ad."

He reaches down to start fucking with the water controls, flipping the shower on.

"'Sides, he isn't _that_ bad." He adds. "Well, not anymore at least. He was kind of a dick for the first semester and then John apparently had a 'conversation' with him and now he's pretty chill."

With the water warmed up, he pulls the curtain back and steps into the shitty little space and this is going to be so cramped but there is literally nothing Dave wants to do more than right now than take a terrible, shitty, cramped shower with his (ex?) boyfriend.

Karkat steps in after Dave, and _good god_ it’s crowded. But Dave’s standing there under the steaming water, his blonde hair soaked, bangs stuck to his forehead, water running in rivulets down his arms and chest and ooookay, Karkat is staring. He steps under the water with Dave, which means basically having to touch chest-to-chest in order for them to both fit under the stream, the water pressure isn’t as good as the shower back in his own dorm and—

Oh, fuck it.

Karkat slides his arms around Dave’s waist and pulls him close, gently so he won’t slip on the wet floor, and kisses him. He thought he might be too sore and exhausted for this, that they’d simply help wash the dried sweat off each other’s back and then crawl back into bed until Dave’s roommates got back, but turns out Karkat’s dick has other plans. Apparently all that naked Dave ogling had finally gotten it’s attention.

Karkat’s never done anything with anyone in a shower before, so it’s an all new experience. Turns out shower kissing is, well—hot as hell, but he’s pretty sure he could kiss Dave behind a dumpster and still get butterflies—but he also has to keep his mouth fairly closed, otherwise it just fills up with water. Since he can’t get too creative with kissing, Karkat let’s the rest of his body pick up the slack. He reaches behind Dave and squeezes his ass, then moves his hands up his back, moving around to run his hands up his chest.

Karkat pinches and rolls Dave’s nipples in each hand, breaking from their kiss to bite at Dave’s ear, then trail kisses down his wet neck, the side that isn’t already marked up with hickeys.

Karkat prefers symmetry.

He nips at the warm, wet flesh on Dave’s neck, sucking the skin into his mouth and biting down. He repeats this in several spots down Dave’s neck, before coming back up and seizing Dave’s lips again, pulling his bottom lip through his teeth.

Dave grins as Karkat joins him in the shower and yup, he was right- it's tight, it's cramped, the water fucking sucks, but- here's _Karkat_ so it's all okay.

He huffs a little laugh as they stand there, opens his mouth to say something, but then Karkat's tugging him in for a kiss and _yeah_ Dave is more than okay with what's happening here. He slips his arms up around Karkat's neck, closing his eyes against the shower spray as they kiss lightly.

It's warm and weird and kinda silly but it sends butterflies spiraling in Dave's belly so he hums in pleasure against Karkat's mouth.

 _Oh_ , okay, they're doing round two. Dave realizes this about the point where Karkat starts squeezing his ass, pulling a moan from Dave's mouth.

Dave presses into the touches, humming in enjoyment as the hot water rushes down over them, sliding a hand up into Karkat's hair, gripping it as Karkat pinches his nipples, makes his legs go weak, _bites_ at his neck and Dave gives a little gasping, pleading noise.

"Ohh-hh _fuck_ Karkat, yes, come on, christ, mark me up re _eal_ fucking good-" He moans as Karkat bites and sucks. "Come on, I'm your fucking canvas, babe, leave yourrr-mmmhpmh-" His words dissolve as Karkat kisses him and bites his lip.

He pulls back, panting. "Fuck." He's clinging to Karkat to stay standing. "What do you want me to do, Karkat?" He asks breathlessly. "You want to try and fuck me up against the shower wall? Probably a bit dangerous, don't you think? Or you want me to go to my knees? Suck you off under the shower spray?"

Karkat’s knees nearly give out when Dave asks him _what do you want me to do_ , because wow wow _wow_ that’s the hottest thing ever, and yep, if he wasn’t fully hard before he most certainly is now.

Karkat bites his lip as he ponders their...honestly rather limited options, unfortunately. _“Jesus_ , uhh—as _hot_ as that sounds, I don’t want you to fall and hurt yourself. But I will gladly fuck you up some other wall another day, one that won’t lead to property or Dave damage. That offer is also very much on the table in the reverse, by the way. Just putting that out into the universe...”

Holy shit he’s rambling again isn’t he, what is _wrong_ with him—

“Uhhh I, um...maybe in the meantime then, y-you could—“—why is he stammering? _WHY_ is he stammering, what the fuck—“ablowjobsoundsgreatyeah.”

God, the expression on Karkat's _face_ \- the look of it sends such a pulse of heat through Dave, seeing his (ex????) boyfriend get so flustered at Dave's questions.

Dave chuckles at Karkat's stammered response. "You got it, baby." He says, feeling real fucking smooth right now. Who's the king of smooth? Thats right, Dave motherfucking Strider.

He lets his hands slide down Karkat's front as he sinks to his knees, slicking his wet hair back with a grin.

Wow water spray is fucking weird, slipping down the front of his face even though the shower's raining down on him from behind. Dave slicks a stream of water away before leaning in, nuzzling over Karkat's dick.

God. Even with the water rushing over then, the scent of Karkat is _dizzingly_ strong as Dave plants a kiss at the base of his cock, licking a long strip up the side.

It's been a hot minute since Dave's done this, but he's pretty sure his skills haven't gotten rusty.

 _Here's a trick you haven't seen from me_ , Dave thinks, opens his mouth, and takes in Karkat all the way to the base, moaning faintly as he buries his nose into Karkat's pubes, throat working around the head of Karkat's dick as he swallows.

“H- _Hoooollly-y-y_ ** _fucking_** _shit,_ Dave—!” Karkat cries out, his voice already breaking as Dave just _takes him all the way in,_ in one fucking go, oh my god—

Karkat wasn’t prepared. His knees buckle, one hand slams against the shower with a wet slap, the other goes down and grabs a fistful of Dave’s hair.

It wasn’t that Dave couldn’t suck Karkat off when they were together, but it usually took him some buildup before he was putting Karkat’s _entire_ dick in his mouth. As for Karkat, he’d never had much of a gag reflex, which lead to Dave calling him a “fucking natural” more than once. But Dave has _clearly_ improved upon his technique over the years.

The thought sends a wave of jealousy through Karkat all of a sudden. It’s not like he expected Dave not to have slept with at _least_ one other person over the last five years they’ve been apart. Karkat really doesn’t have any right to be jealous. He slept with other people, too. But he can’t help it, the thought of Dave with other people—it makes Karkat want to hide Dave away. It’s fucking selfish and possessive and _creepy_ of him to think, but in this moment, watching Dave bop up and down on his dick, it’s all he can think about.

He doesn’t want Dave to be with anyone else, ever again. Karkat wants to be Dave’s forever, and wants Dave to be his.

“S-so fucking good,” Karkat groans. His hand on the wall slips a little and he repositions it. He gives Dave’s hair a firm pull, not too harsh, just reaffirming his praise. “L-look so good down there, fuck—god—wanna—“

_I want to keep you but I can’t say it out loud._

What if it scares Dave off? It’s so clingy, and weird, he can’t say it—but he has to say _something_ , and it feels like he’s on a precipice now, like if he doesn’t say something right now it’ll be too late—

“Wan—wanna b-be yours,” Karkat moans, arching his back, rolling his hips into Dave’s mouth. “W-wanna be yours again, all y-yours...”

Karkat _cries ou_ t so fucking beautifully as Dave swallows him down and it's music to Dave's ears as he begins to bob his head, relishing the feeling of Karkat squirming and gasping underneath his mouth.

God- there's something so _worshipful_ about this, being on his knees, making Karkat feel good, just fucking his throat onto Karkat's dick, over and over.

(It's nice to know that his time in California was good for _something_ , god. At the very least it means he gets to make Karkat feel good.

But whatever, he's not thinking about California right now, not with Karkat underneath him making such incredible sounds.)

It feels good, Karkat's hand in his hair, the water rushing over them, the weight of cock in his mouth- its all just more proof that he's _here_.

He pulls off of Karkat's dick with a wet noise, stroking it a couple of times as he looks up at Karkat, blinking water out of his eyes, heart pounding.

"Oh, _fuck_ Karkat-" Dave breathes. "Yeah, you're mine, baby, I'm never fucking letting you go again." He swallows Karkat right on down again, making a pleased humming noise, taking him right back to the base.

Karkat isn’t sure what makes him whimper more, Dave’s words or when he plunges Karkat’s cock right back down his throat.

Karkat’s head rolls backwards as Dave continues giving him the _best_ blowjob he’s ever gotten, from Dave himself or any of the other fucking schmucks who came nowhere _close_ , even back when Dave was still a teenager with a gag reflex. He’s having a hard time keeping steady, his legs are absolutely _shaking_ underneath him and it’s all he can do to stay upright, keeping as firm a hold he can on the wet shower wall and Dave’s hair.

He still feels overstimulated from their first round, it’s like his nerve endings are all on fire, he can feel every pulse in his cock as it slides down Dave’s throat, every bead of water that hits his skin, the rivulets that travel down his back and his quivering legs, the _sting_ of the hot water hitting the scratches all over his shoulders. Dave has one hand braced on Karkat’s thigh and it feels like his skin underneath Dave’s palm is tingling, even that simple touch is so, so much...

It’s so exciting seeing Dave like this. He thinks back to Dave from earlier that day, meek and small and nervous. The Dave from just an hour or so ago, thrashing and moaning and sobbing as Karkat fucked him relentlessly into the bed. And now this Dave, acting like his usual suave, sweet, _sexy_ self, as he tells Karkat _you’re mine_ and takes him down his throat.

And he loves every single one, every single side of Dave. Even the sad, broken parts that are there now, that this five-year separation has put there. Karkat wants to love those parts of Dave until they fade into almost nothing, just old scars Dave will barely be able to see or remember. Karkat wants to heal him, protect him, _keep_ him, until he’s all Dave can think about—so he doesn’t have to think of anything else—

“G-gonna—c-cum-mm,” Karkat moans, “Aah, D-Dave, fuck, _yes_!”

Dave pulls back enough to say, voice hoarse, "cum for me, baby, gonna drink it all down," before shoving Karkat's cock right back down his throat.

God. Karkat is _his_ again, his boyfriend (no more ex, no more reminding himself at every turn "ex"), his _boyfriend_ again, and Dave is never fucking letting him go again. Not ever, he's not _ever_ letting anything get between them again.

Karkat's cock is hot and thick and heavy in his mouth and as he presses it in deep Karkat falls apart under him, shuddering and cumming and Dave swallows it so easily, uncaring of the taste because it's _Karkat_ , his cock aching between his legs, so fucking turned on but god he doesn't want to touch, he wants Karkat's hand on him to bring him to completion and he is so fucking hard that he knows the slightest thing will set him off.

“Ffff-F-Fuck, Fuck! God, _Dave_ —“ and then Karkat’s entire body shudders as he cums, right down Dave’s throat, and _god_ at the thought of Dave swallowing every last drop his cock twitches even harder, still wrapped around Dave’s mouth. He feels Dave swallow around him, drinking down the last of it, and that’s it, Karkat can’t stand anymore.

He pulls himself out of Dave’s mouth and drops to his knees in front of Dave, grabbing the sides of Dave’s face and pulling him in for a deep kiss, their mouths drenched with water. Karkat can taste himself on Dave’s lips and it only makes him kiss Dave deeper, before he finally breaks away, panting.

“You’re so perfect,” Karkat murmurs, his voice soft with affection yet husky with arousal all at once, and so quiet it can barely be heard over the rush of the water around them. Just for Dave to hear. “Should have tried harder to find you, no matter what it fucking took. Should have never let you get away from me.” His voice breaks with emotion, and before he can get overcome with it and start crying _again_ , he kisses Dave instead, hard and possessive.

Karkat pulls away from the kiss, rubbing his thumbs across Dave’s cheeks. “Stand up, baby, it’s your turn.”

Dave pants, swaying on his knees as Karkat pulls his dick back, a few strands of spit stringing from his mouth and he looks up to give Karkat a sloppy grin, but then Karkat is on his knees and kissing Dave and _hello_ , fuck, yes, Dave is moaning, he is down for this, please, Karkat just touch him-

 _You're so perfect_. Dave shudders, dropkicking the shit out of his instinctive reaction of _No I'm not,_ and god fuck, Karkat's voice is cracking, and he's kissing Dave again and yes, this is _much_ better than thinking about those words, about those years, so Dave presses into it gratefully.

"You want me to _stand_ right now?" Dave croaks in disbelief. "Babe, my legs are fucking out of goddamn commission right now." He's not lying, his legs feel a bit like jelly, he is not fucking moving at this exact moment.

"Just fucking kiss me-" Dave says, grabbing one of Karkat's hands and bringing it down to his dick, pulling Karkat into another kiss with a grip on his hair.

Karkat pouts a little at getting denied, but quickly enough Dave is kissing him again, and grabbing Karkat’s hand to bring it down to his cock, and well alright, Karkat can work with this. He still takes a moment to bitterly wish this shower was bigger so he’d have room to lie down and take Dave into his mouth, but whatever. Plenty of time for that now.

And that thought keeps ringing through Karkat’s mind as he kisses Dave and starts to pump his dick in his hands. Dave moans between them at the contact, and _oh christ_ he didn’t touch himself at all while he was sucking Karkat off, did he? Just when Karkat thinks Dave can’t get any hotter.

He picks up the pace, able to jerk Dave off as hard as he likes thanks to the spray from the shower acting as a lubricant, making Dave’s cock nice and wet and slick in his hand.

“Love you so much, Dave,” Karkat sighs against their lips, because he feels like he can never say it enough. And after having Dave swiped away from him before, it makes him hyper aware of the fact he can lose people just like _that_ , so quickly, and be left with nothing but regrets, feeling like he should have done _more_ , said so much _more_.

It all comes spilling out of him now, in between kisses, he kisses everywhere he can reach as the words fall from his mouth.

“Love every single thing about you. So perfect and amazing and sexy, so funny and smart and sweet, missed every single fucking thing about you—your voice, how good you always smell,” he runs his free hand down Dave’s face, down his neck, over his shoulder, down his chest, “your _incredible_ fucking body, right down to the last cute little freckle. Want to make you all mine, want you to know how _good_ you are all the time and if you ever forget that—“

Karkat buries his face into Dave’s neck, kissing up his throat, his jaw, up to his ear, where he growls, “—then I’ll just keep reminding you, again and again, until it _sticks_.”

Dave moans happily as Karkat touches him, cock jumping in his hand because _fuck_ , yes, please keep doing that- and his heart leaps into overtime as Karkat says it so easily, says how much he _loves_ Dave-

But his gut goes tight and his face goes hot as Karkat starts talking about what he loves and Dave wants to go _wait, no-_ but he can't bring himself to make Karkat stop, his legs going tense from the strange, shivering shame in his gut, vibrating up his spine but it feels _good-_

It feels so fucking good hearing what Karkat likes about him, even if it makes him flush and want to hide his face, want to squeeze his eyes shut and shake his head, but Karkat's already got his mouth pressed to Dave's neck, kissing there, over his sensitive skin-

God. Karkat's _voice_. It's too fucking much, low and promising and demanding and sending a shiver rocketing down Dave's spine, wrenching his orgasm from him with a strangled, helpless, stuttered moan, face hot from being praised.

Karkat hears Dave moan that’s practically a whimper as he cums in his hand, and the shower washes it all away quickly. Karkat plants a kiss to Dave’s cheek as he shivers through the last of his orgasm, then Karkat pulls away, taking a moment to take in Dave’s face before leaning in for another kiss and—

Wait. Something feels—off, somehow? Dave’s face is bright red, and well, yeah, he just _came_ , but—the look on Dave’s face is strange, a mix of pleasure and something else Karkat can’t exactly place.

“Hey...” Karkat says softly, a tinge of worry in his voice he can’t keep out of it, “Are you...? Is everything okay, D?”

Dave shudders through his orgasm, face hot and gut churning. It was so fucking good- it was _so_ good, but there was a terrible, guilty edge to it because Karkat was saying all these _nice_ things about Dave and Dave-

Dave doesn't deserve it. And that makes him terrified, because if Karkat's saying all these things that means he _believes_ them, which means that sooner or later (and god it'll be sooner, it's always sooner-) he'll see past the facade that Dave puts up and'll find out that it's all not true.

"I- yeah." He says. "Just-" He flushes harder, pressing the back of his hand to his mouth as he glances away. The shower water is starting to go cool so he reaches over and nudges the heat up higher, bringing it back up to warm.

How the fuck is he supposed to say _yeah you saying nice things makes me upset_???

"Just- overwhelmed." He says.

Karkat reaches behind Dave and shuts the flow of water off completely. “Let’s...let’s get out, come on.”

Shit, his heart is racing. Dave says he’s just overwhelmed, but Karkat can’t help but feel like he did something wrong, though he can’t think of what he could have done. And that makes it worse, because now he doesn’t know how to fix it.

Karkat’s legs aren’t shaking as badly now. At least not from his recent orgasm, anyway. He rises to his feet and steps gingerly out of the shower and then looks back at Dave.

Dave looks far away, and it makes Karkat want to shrivel up and die, thinking _he did this_. It’s the Dave from the coffee shop again, worse than a shrinking violet, closing in on himself and going _quiet_. What happened to the Dave from just moments ago, light and jovial, cracking jokes, smiling, _beaming_ at Karkat as they laughed in bed together, grinning at him like a cat when Karkat stepped into that tiny shower that could barely hold them both. He just got him back. And he’s already fading away again, and it’s _all Karkat’s fault_.

Karkat holds out his hands to Dave, trying his best to keep them and his voice from shaking. “Can you stand?”

Dave nods, taking Karkat's hand and rising to his feet, wobblily. He gives Karkat a lopsided grin, his heart starting to calm down, but that weird shiver is still in his gut, sitting uncomfortably like too much alcohol when he knew he should have stopped.

"I've got a couple of spare towels in the closet." He says, nodding at it past Karkat, grabbing his off the rack and drying his face, mussing it over his hair.

Karkat seems- weird? Dave can't put his finger on it. He's looking at Dave like he's... nervous. Which, yeah, fair. Reconnect with the most important person in your life after five years, there's bound to be some bumps, some weird moments.

Dave swallows.

"Uh. Right. Let's get dressed." He gives Karkat a sheepish little grin, but nerves are bubbling up in his belly, his fingers shaking ever so slightly as he dries himself off.

This is the part where he'd probably rather throw himself out the window instead of talking about what happened, but... Karkat deserves to know.

Karkat grabs himself a towel from the closet Dave points to, and his mind buzzes as he dries himself off, shakes the towel through his thick hair, then follows Dave numbly back to his room.

Dave’s all sheepish grins that don’t meet his eyes and nervous energy. And while this quiet, reserved side of Dave is alien to Karkat, this one isn’t.

He and Dave dated for two years, and they were both emotionally constipated, volatile, stupid teenage boys. They had more than their fair share of what you’d call “lover’s quarrels”. That name always seemed so stupid to Karkat, and it’s still stupid now. It was trying to put a light air on something that was, more often than not, fucking intense and awful.

Dave kept his emotions hidden behind a cool persona. Karkat let his show at all times. Now put them in the same room together and try and make them talk when “somethings wrong”. It always ended with Karkat in tears, Dave having _no_ idea how to handle that, Karkat getting even _more_ upset that Dave couldn’t just _comfort_ him _properly_ , Dave shutting down even more because Karkat’s yelling and crying all at once at him now, he’s quiet, so _quiet_ , his face is stone, Karkat can’t tell what he’s _thinking_ , it’s like screaming at a _fucking wall_ —

Karkat is sitting on the edge of Dave’s bed now, fully dressed, his hair still damp, the tips of it still dripping slightly. His hands are clenched in his lap, and what a waste of a nice hot shower that was cause he’s nothing now but a ball of tight, coiled nerves.

His heart pounds in his ears, his brain is filled with static, he can feel himself dissociating from the panic seeping into his bones. God, he really doesn’t want an anxiety attack right now. He digs his nails into his palms, grounding himself, the sting of it reminding him he’s here, in this moment, and he needs to _say_ something. His throat is already closing up, and he swallows roughly around it, licking his lips.

“We...we need to talk.” he chokes out.

Oh god Dave has somehow, unsurprisingly, already fucked up. Karkat's got that _look_ on his face, the 'Dave-you-are-doing-something-that-is-making-me-very-upset-and-I-am-trying-very-hard-not-to-get-mad-and-shout-at-you' look. The look that Dave learned to dread, back when they were dating.

(Are? Better not get his hopes up.)

He gets dressed and slowly sinks down to sit onto the bed next to Karkat. Dave feels about three wrong moves away from Karkat getting up and walking out the door and he doesn't even know what the fucking chessboard _looks_ like. He doesn't even know if they're playing chess.

"Yeah." He croaks. "Um." He has to try really hard not to start plucking at his sleeves, curling his toes against the floor instead. "We... we do." He can't quite meet Karkat's gaze, nervous of what he'll see there.

Dave doesn't know what to say.

Karkat sees Dave sit down beside him in his peripheral vision, but he can’t stop staring at this one little mark in the wall as he continues to dig his fingernails into his palms.

He counts backwards from ten in his head. Slowly uncurls his hands, and closes his eyes. Tries to articulate his thoughts. He is not some dumb kid anymore, he’s not going to let his emotions take over, or blurt out a bunch of stupid shit, they are going to talk like _fucking adults_ , so help him.

Karkat opens his eyes, and, slowly, reaches a hand over and squeezes Dave on the knee.

“Sorry,” he starts off, “I’m not...I’m not mad at you, or anything, I’m just...”

He takes a deep breath. Exhale.

“Here’s the thing. Being with you is so...so familiar. It’s like coming home after a long time away, and—to pull a _you_ here and use a metaphor, it’s like—it’s like you’ve come home but while you were away, the entire house got redecorated. Not _renovated_ , the shape of everything is still like you remember. Like, the kitchen isn’t where the fucking master suite used to be, but...the paint is a totally different colour. And aw shit, the old couch got thrown away and now there’s this _new_ couch and it’s different but it’s a _good_ different, cause it’s nice to have change, sometimes. Even if we miss things about the old stuff, the memories we have, change is good. Necessary.”

Karkat rubs his thumb across Dave’s knee slowly as he continues.

“But sometimes there’s changes we don’t like. Like you’re finally home, you can’t wait to go to your old room, and...and I don’t fucking know, mom and dad, those sons of bitches, without even _telling you_ , made it into—a fucking brew room. Dad took on a new hobby and decided hey, instead of making my gross craft beer in the fucking garage, or a shed, I’ll put it in my kid’s old bedroom! Now he’s gotta sleep in a room that smells like hops! Thanks a lot, Dad! And _that_ is a shitty change, it’s not _for_ the better.”

Karkat looks up at the ceiling. “And—and you can’t do anything about that change cause you don’t live there anymore, you’re just visiting for the weekend and you’re not gonna be a shithead and piss all over your dad’s new hobby, and—“ Karkat shakes his head, “T-This kind of fucking got away from me but what I’m trying to say is, you’re so familiar and yet also there’s this...this _something_ that has changed about you and I...I need to know what it is.”

Dave waits as Karkat collects his thoughts, trying really hard to just stay breathing.

He doesn't realize how tense he is until Karkat's hand is on his thigh and Dave slowly feels himself relax, listening to Karkat ramble on about a house metaphor, giving a soft little huff of a laugh.

He draws one leg up to be on the bed as Karkat trails off, resting his elbow on his knee and sighing as he smooths his damp hair back, resting his forehead in his palm.

"I know what you mean." Dave says quietly. "It's like- well." He makes a quiet little noise, trying for amusement but falling short about two... feet? fuck it, feet from the goal. "Yeah. Exactly as you put it."

He sighs. The hard rock is back in his stomach, a deeply uncomfortable weight. He swallows. He should think carefully about what he's going to say but his mind feels blank.

"Um." He swallows. "Fuck, this is- hard. Um." He smooths his hair back again, his heart starting to pound again. "I... never let you meet Bro." He starts, mouth feeling dry. "And for... for good reason."

He gives a weak, bitter laugh.

"Bro was a piece of shit." He still half-expects a blow to come swinging out of nowhere for just saying the words. Of course, nothing comes, but- his gaze darts to the door, making shut it's shut.

"Um. I- I don't really, need to go into details, I'm sure you can... guess. But. The night that I..." Dave clears his throat. "The night I broke up with you. He um."

There's a cold sweat starting to slide down his spine. Dave clears his throat again, carefully putting his other hand over Karkat's, giving it a careful squeeze.

"He... found out I was gay." He says quietly. "Or.. something. Guessed it, maybe. Or was bluffing." He closes his eyes, feeling kind of dizzy.

He's never said this bit to anyone. Not even the therapist he tried seeing for half a year.

"He said..." Dave shifts his grip on Karkat's hand, fingers trembling. His hand feels clammy, sweat starting to slip down the back of his neck.

His gaze darts to the door again. Still shut. Dave swallows. His stomach is twisting. He feels like he's going to be sick, that deep pit of cold that comes before the vomit.

"He said- 'If I catch you with a boy, I'll c-castrate the both o-of you and- and k-kill that-'." He chokes out, his voice breaking and faltering apart into nothing.

Just like before, when he saw Dave in distress and all his own problems didn’t exist anymore, Karkat no longer feels the need to keep his panic attack at bay the more Dave speaks. At first, he watches Dave out of the corner of his eye, feeling his chest squeeze when Dave attempts one of his own patented metaphors and then just...gives up. As soon as Dave name drops Bro, Karkat’s heart is hammering in his chest.

_I knew it. I fucking knew it—_

He fully turns towards Dave now, taking Dave’s hands in his, listening as Dave struggles through what he tries to say. His eyes keep darting off to the side, as though he’s looking for a threat, and Karkat’s blood boils. He wonders idly to himself if he’ll ever have a chance encounter with the _other_ Strider one day.

_We’ll see who castrates WHO, motherfucker._

“Dave, shhh, you don’t—you don’t have to tell me, fuck, I’m so sorry that happened to you, I wish—god, I’m so sorry,” Karkat takes one had to cup Dave’s cheek, rubbing his thumb along his cheekbone. “If it’s too painful, too much—I get it. You don’t have to say it. It’s okay.”

Dave squeezes his eyes shut, taking a deep breath as Karkat cups his cheek, putting one shaky hand over Karkat's, the other giving Karkat's hand a squeeze.

It hurts. It _fucking hurts_ to say it, but- he needs to. So he shakes his head a bit.

"No, I- I need... I need to tell you." Dave whispers, gaze darting up to look at Karkat's face for a moment before flicking away.

"I.. I fucking panicked. Like a fucking idiot. I blocked you on everything to-" he shudders, "to remove our conversations. Everything. In case Bro went through my phone. And- I just- I couldn't risk it."

There's a burning behind his eyes, but they're staying dry, thank _fuck_. Dave is so fucking tired of crying.

"And I didn't even get to explain." He choked. "Because- he _did_. He- he scoured through everything. And if I didn't- didn't keep you blocked he'd- he'd find something."

He takes a deep, shuddering breath.

"And he just came home, had me pack my shit- and we left." Dave says, giving a weak little laugh. "Worst fucking roadtrip ever." He tries.

So that was it. All these years Karkat had thought he’d done something _terrible_ , something so awful that his best friend, the love of his fucking life, couldn’t even give him a proper goodbye. That he’d been such a piece of shit he deserved to be dropped like a stone.

All these years that he’s spent just going through the motions, living life as a zombie, half-alive, thinking he let the best thing that had ever happened to him slip from his fingers.

How many times had he thought of taking his own life, because it wasn’t worth living in a world where Dave _hated him_?

But it was all wrong. Dave loved him, had never stopped loving him. He was just threatened, afraid—

He did it to protect him.

Dave saved his life, and how did Karkat repay him? By attempting to take his own life, countless times. By mutilating himself with his fingernails, refusing to eat, sleepless nights, showers with water so hot it burned his flesh bright red and nearly made him pass out from the heat—

Tears spill from Karkat’s eyes and down his cheeks as he stares at Dave. There isn’t any shaking or sobbing, just silent tears rolling down his cheeks and he can’t make them stop.

“You didn’t hate me,” Karkat whispers the words that keep playing over and over in his head, battering him from the inside, “You were only trying to protect me...”

Dave squeezes his eyes shut and nods. "I'm sorry." He chokes out. "I should have figured something out. Should have- a message or a note or _something_." He looks up at Karkat and brings his hand up to slowly thumb away the thick drops spilling down Karkat's cheeks.

"I hurt you so bad." Dave says softly, gently pulling Karkat in to press their foreheads together, letting his eyes slide shut. "And I- I was too much of a fucking coward to make it better. I should- should have- alt account, passed a message through someone, _anything_." He chokes.

But even as he says it, he knows it would have been impossible. Bro would've found out somehow. He always does.

Did. He always did.

The back of Dave's neck is prickling and he has to fight the urge to look back at the door, not wanting to pull away from Karkat.

"I'm so fucking sorry, Karkat." Dave says softly. "I'm not going anywhere now, I promise."

Dave is _still_ apologizing, and it just makes the tears fall faster. Karkat lets his face crumple when Dave pulls him in close and presses their foreheads together. He screws his eyes shut and more tears spill over.

“ _I’m_ the fucking one who should be sorry,” he croaks, “you were just—I should have known, I knew something wasn’t right...you were in fucking _danger_ , I let that—that fucking _putrid motherfucker_ take you away from me—if something happened to you—“

Karkat wraps his arms around Dave and holds him tight, his fists clenching into the fabric of Dave’s shirt.

“I’m such a goddamn stupid, almighty fuckup,” Karkat growls, burying his face into Dave’s shoulder. “What if you’d gotten away, found a chance to get back in contact with me, tried to reach me and I—if I had—“ he’s shaking now, choking the words out as they struggle to come to the surface after so long buried within the farthest, darkest reaches of his mind, “if I had gone through with it any of the _dozens_ of times I thought—there was so much pain that I was numb and I just wanted it to _stop_ , and instead of trying to find you, to save _you_ like you saved _me_ , I just—fucking felt sorry for myself, like always. You save my fucking life and I repay you by bleeding out on my fucking basement floor.”

He’s _angry_ now, the words spilling out of him now without a hitch in his voice, the tears still spilling down but he’s always been even more of a crier when he’s angry.

He’s furious with himself at his own weakness. He wants to go back to that weeping, broken boy sitting in his basement, knock the box cutter out of his hand, and scream in his face.

_He’s in California._

_He needs you._

_Stop trying to fucking die and_

**_go_ **

**_get_ **

**_him_ **

**_back._ **


	4. Chapter 4

Dave presses his face to Karkat's neck as Karkat hugs him, holding on to him tightly as he regretfully closes his eyes.

But- Karkat- oh, _god_ , Karkat-

Dave knew it was possible but god. Hearing it from Karkat's mouth was like a gut punch, breathless in all the wrong ways.

_Karkat tried to kill himself._

And it's all Dave's fault.

"Baby, _no_." Dave says, anguish in his voice as he hugs Karkat close, slides a hand into his hair and cradles his head. "It's okay, I'm here now, _fuck_ \- God I'm so fucking sorry..."

Yeah, that revelation brings the tears. He can picture it so fucking easily- Karkat, numb and wanting to end all the pain, staring at a boxcutter, trying to kill himself-

Dave shudders.

"Thank you." He says, blinking through the tears starting down his cheeks again. "Karkat- God, _thank you for staying alive_." He chokes out.

Karkat’s anger slowly gets pulled out of him as Dave holds him back, buries his face into Karkat’s neck and runs his hand through Karkat’s hair.

And when Dave _thanks him_ , Karkat let’s out a sob that wracks his entire body, and he clenches to Dave even tighter. It’s like his body is releasing all the toxins he’s absorbed in these last five years all at once, each sob wrenches his body, and the more he cries the harder they come, like his body demands more of it, as much release as it can get, finally getting it’s long-awaited catharsis.

Karkat’s not sure how long they stay like that, but Dave doesn’t let up his grip on him the whole way through it. Finally, his sobs lessen, just enough he can speak somewhat coherently.

“I—I c-couldn’t do it,” Karkat hiccups, “I th-thought the only th-th-ing that would keep me here was—was my dad, a-and my brother, but—wh-whenever I got to that place, I...” Karkat squeezes his eyes shut tight, and digs his face into Dave’s shoulder. “E-every time, the first thing I always thought a-about, was—I _can’t_ go, because then that’d m-mean—I’d _really_ never get to see you _ever again_.”

Karkat turns his head so he can kiss Dave firmly on the cheek, and tastes Dave’s tears. His heart is still pounding, but his own tears are finally slowing down, his breathing heavy but he’s able to take in a breath without it hitching into a sob.

“I didn’t want to live in without you in it,” Karkat says, his voice raw from crying, “but—but I didn’t want to die and lose you for good, either.”

"Oh, _babe_." Dave breathes, just letting Karkat get it out. "God. I'm so sorry." He squeezes Karkat just that little bit tighter.

He had imagined, of course, in his own, self-punishing, vaguely 'inducing-suicidal-thoughts-as-punishment', the kind of shit that Karkat would be going through. The crying. The rage. The breaking things and screaming at people and burning Dave's photos.

You know, all the standard breakup things. Once or twice Dave had even wildly imagined Karkat tracking him down and coming on a road trip specifically to beat the shit out of him.

But he never... he never pictured Karkat as really _missing_ him. Or suicidal. Furious at the betrayal, wanting to hurt Dave in any way possible, anything that could punish Dave, hurt him, make him pay in _some way_ -

But never suicidal. His brain refused to even entertain the _thought_ , the idea of Karkat leaving this world too painful to even consider.

Hearing that he's both the reason Karkat was (is? please god let it be was) suicidal and the reason he clung on and never went through it is equal parts pain and relief. _He did this to Karkat_ , but Karkat was still... was still holding on enough, strong enough, to stay alive because of Dave.

"Thank you." Dave manages, pressing a kiss into Karkat's hair, still cradling his head. "Thank you, Karkat, thank you- If you had- I never would have gotten _this_ , gotten to see you again."

Karkat can only nod against Dave’s shoulder, suddenly exhausted from the overwhelming mess of emotions and from crying so hard. He slowly opens his eyes after a minute or so of just letting Dave hold him and run his fingers through his hair.

He gives a sigh that shakes a little on the end, tired and content in Dave’s arms. This is what he held on for, on the slim chance he’d be able to be held by him like this again. He’d had so many dreams just like this, but none of them were close to the real deal.

Karkat pulls away, wiping at his face, suddenly embarrassed that he must look god awful right now, with his eyes all wet and puffy and red, his nose sniffling loudly.

He looks up at Dave, suddenly remembering the moment that had spurred on this whole conversation to begin with.

“Will you...tell me what happened? Back in the bathroom...” Karkat can’t maintain the eye contact, and he hates himself for it. It’s so stupid, but as soon as he brings it up he’s filled with the same guy-rotting guilt from before. He looks down and picks at the cuticle on his thumb. “I feel like I did something that upset you...”

Dave is a little bit surprised at Karkat's question. _That_ was what made Karkat go all weird? The fact that Dave got weirded out?

"I.. I mean, I guess?" Dave says, running his hand over his damp hair. "I.. don't really think it's that big of a deal, though."

Like, what is he supposed to say? 'Yeah, haha, I'm so fucked up that hearing nice things about me makes me _uncomfortable_ '?

Actually Dave guesses he _could_ say that. He won't though, that's... too weird. And too self-pitying.

So he shrugs, glancing away. "I dunno, just... not used to hearing nice things about me, I guess."

Karkat huffs.

When Dave didn’t want to talk about something, it was wild how deep he could dig in his heels.

Karkat feels a strange mix of emotions, but honestly that’s nothing new considering the last few hours of his life. But jumping between so many in so short a time is fucking _exhausting_ , and he’s already tired from all that sobbing he just finished doing, so when Dave deflects giving Karkat a _real_ answer, Karkat feels a twinge of irritation. He thought that’s what all this was _about_ , they were here to _talk_ about—

Okay, well, maybe they just came back to Dave’s dorm to release five years of pent up sexual tension. They’re honestly kind of working backwards here, and have nobody to blame but themselves for it. Karkat pushes his frustration down, taking another deep breath.

He already told himself he loved every part of Dave, didn’t he? That included the side of Dave that was a stubborn _little shit_ who wouldn’t just _come out with it already_ , god fucking dammit, Strider—!

“Dave,” Karkat says, and oh boy. His voice comes out sounding likes he’s seventeen again, grouchy and short-tempered. Fuck. Let’s try that again.

“Dave, when I was saying all those things—you...you looked like you were torn between wanting to cry and—and wanting to throw up.”

Dave’s the one not meeting his eyes now, and Karkat’s a hypocrite but _fuck it_ , he takes Dave by the chin and _makes_ him look Karkat in the eyes.

“Look. I dunno why you think you...I dunno, like you don’t _deserve_ to hear those things. And I’m not asking you to just flip a fucking switch and be _okay_ with it because...well, I’d be the biggest asshole alive to ask that of you. If it’s something that we need to work at, then that’s fine. I can do that. But...I want to be able to give my boyfriend a compliment without him looking like he wants to run away.”

Karkat’s heart jumps when he realizes he just dropped the word _“boyfriend”,_ but he doesn’t let it show as he stares Dave down.

Dave goes still at the first call of his name, gaze nervously darting away.

Wanting to cry and wanting to throw up- yeah that summarized it pretty well, except for the weird, overwhelming _warmth_ that Karkat's words had sent through him.

So when Karkat takes his chin, Dave swallows, his chest going tight as he meets Karkat's gaze, feeling terribly, horribly exposed.

There's a squirming pit of uncomfortable warmth in his belly, like he's full of live eels. His gaze keeps flicking down nervously, trying to hide in some form, make this less horribly soul-bearing, but something makes him keep looking back, keep meeting Karkat's earnest stare even as Dave shifts and bites his lip.

Finally he nods, a tiny little thing. "Yeah." He says, feeling his face flush under Karkat's stare, gaze finally skittering away as he brings a hand up and curls it over his mouth. "I- yeah. That's fair, I'm not trying to- to make you feel bad for, um. Saying nice things."

He looks back to Karkat, giving him a weak little smile. "'S just... weird. Hearing it. I don't- I don't really know how to, um. Handle it, I guess."

He is _not_ fucking mentioning the squirmy heat in his belly from when Karkat said that shit to him. That's too- embarrassing? Weird? It's too _something_ to tell Karkat that his praise had gotten Dave off more than his hand did.

Karkat sighs, long and slow, feeling a little more tension leaving his shoulders. At least it hadn’t made Dave _upset_ , he just—isn’t used to being told nice things? Which is a fucking wild concept to Karkat, who wouldn’t have nice things to say about Dave? It’s _Dave_. But then he remembers that he’s probably the most biased person on the planet when it came to Dave. And considering the company Dave kept in the last...hell, not even just the last five years, but his _entire life_ with that shithead of an older brother.

Karkat doesn’t feel the same guilt and shame from before, but he does still feel stupid. Dave probably hasn’t had a fucking single decent human being tell him something good about himself in so long, has probably heard so much of the _opposite_ that he believes that’s all he is, that he doesn’t deserve anything else.

And the thought breaks Karkat’s heart.

At the same time, he gets this sense of determination to make sure Dave doesn’t have to feel that way anymore. Even if he doesn’t believe it for himself at first. He can just believe in the fact that Karkat means it, until he sees himself the way Karkat sees him.

And there’s no time like the present to get in a little practice.

Karkat moves his thumb from Dave’s chin, and grazes it gently along Dave’s soft lips.

When Karkat opens his mouth, his words come out in a purr, “I guess I’ll just have to get you used to it then, won’t I?”

Dave's mouth goes dry as Karkat's thumb swipes over his lip, looking at the expression on his face, a familiar submission fluttering through his stomach.

Karkats words hit him and his eyes go wide, heat _roaring_ into his cheeks.

"I-" He swallows thickly as his gut clenches, mouth parting slightly, breath coming shaky against the pad of Karkat's thumb.

"O-okay." He stutters.

God. He would let Karkat do _anything_ to him right now. His hands are shaking, ever so slightly, a breathless anticipation in his chest. A quiet little voice perking up in the back of his head, staring intently like a dog waiting for a treat. _Can you? Will you?_

He wants it. He wants to hear Karkat say something, wants to have that deep, squirmy heat in his gut and that just makes him flush harder, the idea that he's- what, that he's _desperate_ for praise? Fuck, maybe he is.

Dave’s aura completely _shifts_ right before Karkat’s eyes, the sheepish smile melting off his face the same moment his thumb brushes over Dave’s lips. Colour floods Dave’s face like a bleeding marker, starting in his cheeks until his entire face is flushed scarlet. His eyes look far off and practically _dreamy_ as he quietly stutters out his approval.

Karkat is going to need a spreadsheet for all the different versions of Dave there are to contend with. He makes a very special note in his mind about _this_ version in particular, however. It’s one of the new, and different, but _good_ versions. Very, very good.

“God, you’re so _cute_...” Karkat sighs, leaning forward to kiss Dave. It’s not exactly what he’d planned to start off with, but it was the first thing to pop into his head, so fuck it he’s going with it.

He kisses Dave, soft and slow and sweet, a small smile tugging on his lips between their kiss.

“You’re blushing so hard,” Karkat says, pressing his lips to Dave’s hot cheek, “it’s fucking adorable.”

He works his way down, brushing his lips gently down Dave’s neck, which has bruises down either side now. Karkat presses his lips to one of the bruises, then gives it a small lick, as if in apology.

“Love how red you get for me,” he whispers against Dave’s skin, “when I put marks on you they get so _dark_ and last for ages. Like it that way. Means everyone can know you’re mine.”

Fire coils in Karkat’s stomach as he continues, his own words beginning to ignite something within him. He wonders idly what it’s doing to Dave, if he’s affecting _himself_ this much already?

“Want to claim every inch of you,” Karkat’s voice comes out in a soft groan now as his arousal spikes, “until you’re marked up all pretty and perfect and _all for me...”_

Dave shudders into the kiss, a slow and tender thing that just. Pours fucking liquid cement into his bones. Dave Strider is officially set and Not Fucking Moving, folks. He is goddamn putty in Karkat's hands, ready to be shaped by his whispers and words like a fucking artificer.

His face is _burning_ with heat, embarrassment heavy and hot in his chest as Karkat kisses his cheek and down his neck. His hands come up to hover over Karkat's shoulders, trembling slightly before settling, just something to ground himself with.

It's too fucking much- Dave's flushing so hard he's surprised hes not spontaneously combusting as he manages to stutter out "L-like being marked." Shuddering under the kisses on his _sensitive_ fucking neck, no seriously, _god_ \- "Means- I'm yours." _And that you want me._

God. Dave _can't fucking take this_ if Karkat keeps going he might _actually_ die from the squirming, sparking heat in his belly. Karkat's hitting all the right spots and it's making Dave want to drop, makes him want to go belly up and offer everything to Karkat even though- even though that's not normal, not something people do in normal relationships. Fuck.

“That’s right, baby, you’re _mine_ ,” Karkat kisses along Dave’s shoulders now, along his long and gorgeous collarbone. Oh how he has sorely neglected that collarbone. He should fix that soon.

“It was _torture_ , having to keep you a secret back in the day,” Karkat says as presses firm kisses all along Dave’s collarbone, until he’s on the other shoulder now and working back up the other side of his neck. “The only thing that made it bearable was knowing I had you all to myself when we got to be alone. But I hated that I couldn’t tell anyone that you were _mine_.”

 _Mine_. Every time Karkat says the word the fire in his gut sparks, and it’s climbing up now, searing his whole body with its heat.

“Now that I finally get to, oh man,” Karkat chuckles right in Dave’s ear, “you’re _done_ for, D. I’m making sure _everyone_ knows.”

He nips Dave’s ear, quick and hard, a promise of what’s to come. Then he grabs the hem of Dave’s shirt and pulls it up, guiding Dave’s arms upward to he can swipe it away, and fling it across the room.

“Every time you look in the mirror, no matter what angle, you’re gonna know you belong to me,” Karkat says in a low voice, as he pushes his hands into Dave’s chest, guiding him to lie on his back. “Gonna mark up every inch of your perfect body until you’re covered in me. And even when the marks fade you’ll still know you’re mine until I replace them with fresh ones.”

The only noises Dave can make as Karkat kisses along his neck, his collarbone, firm and unyeilding, are just weak little gutteral noises, tiny little 'Aa-ah ha-a-'s worked from his throat by Karkat's touches, his kisses.

He's on fucking fire. That's the only explanation here, he's literally caught fire and Karkat is too busy feeding it instead of putting it out.

 _Mine_. Oh, _god_. Dave shudders. Yes, please, god- fuck, please, he wants to be _Karkat's_ , wants to be his and only his, wants to belong to him and no one else and this is fucking _torturous_ , it's not fucking _fair_ how is Karkat so good, so hot at this-

The nip makes him yelp, a strangled little moan that turns into a "h-hey-" as Karkat promptly de-shirts him and shoves him down to the bed.

Dave sprawls on his back, staring up at Karkat with wide eyes, painfully turned on. Karkat's hovering over him, caging him in and instead of feeling trapped, he feels _safe_. Dave stares at Karkat like he's the only goddamn thing in the universe worth looking at, his own personal god, here to lay claim to his most holy, most faithful worshiper.

And yet, with all these thoughts racing through Dave's head, all he can manage is a weak, desperate, breathy little,

_"Please..."_

Karkat feels fucking _triumphant_.

It’s working, it’s actually fucking working—Dave isn’t closing up, going quiet and strange. He’s making the prettiest sounds every single time Karkat’s lips touch his skin, and it’s to die for.

He sprawls out on the mattress, staring up at Karkat with wide, soft eyes, and Karkat feels like he could _spit_ the fire that’s raging inside him right now because of it, the way Dave looks at him like he’s the most precious thing in the world, it makes him feel superhuman.

“God you’re so fucking beautiful,” Karkat crashes his lips onto Dave’s desperately, and all he can do for a moment is just crush his lips against Dave’s, his hands balling into fists on either side of Dave’s head.

He breaks away with a small gasp, his heartbeat thudding in his ears, his breath coming out in short pants, “so I have some rules.”

He takes Dave’s hands and presses them down on either side of Dave’s head, pushing firmly into the pillows. “Rule number one: no touching. Not yourself, and not me. This is just about _you_. Want you to focus on every mark I leave on you, so you can remember every detail of how I put it there.”

Karkat runs his hands down Dave’s arms, down over his torso. “Rule number two,” he continues, “Tell me all about how good I make you feel. Tell me which parts you want me to make feel even better. The noisier the better.” He rubs his thumb over Dave’s nipple, trying to goad a noise on purpose to emphasis his point. “Love all those sexy noises you make for me.”

Karkat sits back on his heels and gives Dave a sly smile. “How’s that, pretty easy rules, right?” He grabs Dave’s thighs and give them a firm squeeze. “And if you follow them, I’ll be sure to _reward_ you.”

Dave moans weakly as Karkat kisses him, eyes fluttering, but it turns into a startled little gasp as Karkat grabs his wrists and pins them to the bed.

Oh fuck. Okay. Rules. Oh fuck Karkat wants to have him like _that_ , huh? Dave is so fucking down he will take anything he can get from Karkat and hold it fucking _tight_ with both hands.

He doesn't know if Karkat's trying to scene or if he's just- just testing the waters? He's probably just testing the waters, he shouldn't let himself get out of his head this time.

_(Rule one- no touching. Rule two- talk to Karkat.)_

So he swallows and then croaks. "Hard and easy, baby." He licks his lips, shuddering at the squeeze. "You want me to- mm, talk? No fucking problem." He eyes Karkat's hair, his fluffy, perfect hair- "but no touching?"

Dave, trying to recover some equilibrium, gives a whining huff of a laugh. "That's just _mean_ , Karkat."

“I think you’re up for the challenge,” Karkat says, smirking as Dave’s eyes scour him up and down, clearly scoping out all the places he wants to touch but _can’t._

This is already one of the hottest things they’ve ever done together, and it hasn’t even truly begun yet. Karkat’s mind is _whirring_ with possibilities, but he forces himself to focus on the moment in front of him now. They had all the time in the world to keep experimenting, learning all-new parts about each other and reigniting old ones.

Karkat’s hands move slowly, _so_ slowly, up Dave’s thighs (which are still covered by jeans—why did they even bother getting redressed again?) and to his bruised hips. Karkat makes a pleased hum in his throat when he sees the bruises, in the shape of his fucking _fingertips_ , all over Dave’s skin. He squeezes down in the exact same spots, letting Dave relive when Karkat was fucking him ruthlessly into these very sheets just hours ago.

“Like I said, if you’re good, I’ll reward you,” Karkat says, pressing his hands deeper into Dave’s hips as he leans forward, his next words coming out in a husky whisper, “You want to be _good_ for me, don’t you?”

Dave bites his lip, his fingers slowly flexing. He's always been horrible at not moving if he's not restrained, so he pulls his hands into fists and starts trying to crack his fingers one handed, needing something to do to stop himself from just _reaching_ for Karkat.

"I'll do my fucking best, babe." He says, watching Karkat pull back and slide his hands over Dave's thighs.

His fingers _dig in_ and a deep ache flares to life, tearing a moan from Dave's throat. "Ohh- _hhh_ fuck-" he gasps, back arching a bit.

"Y-yeah-" He whines. God, the ache in his hips is _so_ fucking deep, sending a little throbbing wave right down to his bones.

He desperately grabs the edge of the pillow on either side of his head, tilting his head back as the ache _grows_ , his thighs twitching, eyes fluttering and mouth open as he pants. "W-wanna-" He gasps. "Wanna be go-ood for _you_ -" his words breathed out on a trembling exhale.

God he wants. He wants _so fucking badly_ and Karkat's already hitting the good shit in his chest, Dave wants to be good, wants to be so good for Karkat.

“That’s good,” Karkat breathes, “Already so _perfect_ , Dave, so good...”

He leans down even further and kisses Dave’s stomach, relishing in the warm, soft skin, the hard muscle underneath. Karkat slides his tongue up the middle of Dave’s navel, along the small crevice that’s perfectly fit for Karkat’s tongue. Dave smells clean from their rinse in the shower, but since they got rather _distracted_ and didn’t fully wash with soap, he still has the lingering, salty-sweet smell of their morning fuck, and it’s _delectable_.

He nips gently along Dave’s stomach, kissing and licking and then pinching soft flesh between his teeth, just gentle love bites, not enough to bruise, just a warmup.

Then, he crawls further up the bed, caging Dave in with his arms. He takes a moment in this position to just admire the view, smiling affectionately down at Dave.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he says, laughing a little. He brings one hand up to move Dave’s half-dry hair out of his eyes. “Doing so _good_ so far, babe. Think you’re ready for your first reward.”

Karkat leans down, holding himself just above Dave’s body so their bodies don’t press together, but he can still get his mouth to reach where he wants. He’s back at Dave’s collarbone, intending to live up to his promise of ravishing it the way it deserves.

“Think I’ll start here, if that’s good by you,” Karkat says, placing a gentle kiss right in the middle, where the bone dips down in the centre of Dave’s neck.

“One of my favourite parts about you,” Karkat whispers as he kisses all along the thin, protruding bone. “Just something so sexy about it. And it’ll look even better when I mark it all up.”

He’ll start from one end and work the entire way across until he’s satisfied. Karkat kisses and licks and bites all the way from one shoulder to another, going back and reworking some spots that didn’t come away red enough for his liking. When Dave’s entire collarbone is flushed and bruised, Karkat pulls away to admire his work.

Fuck, yes, he's _already being good_ and that makes him moan helplessly, he's going to keep _being_ good so he grips the pillows a little harder, watching Karkat move down.

As Karkat drags his tongue up Dave's body, he moans again. The touch is _electric_ , tingling and crackling across his skin. "Fuck, baby-" He whines, remembering that Karkat wants him to talk. "Feels good- ngh-" He shudders at the first little nip, "your fuckin _guh_ mouth so- goddamn talented-"

He gives a heady little groan as Karkat worries a section of skin between this teeth- it aches so deliciously _good_ , his eyes fluttering shut.

He feels shifting on the bed and opens them to the sight of Karkat smiling down at him and Dave flushes, feeling his head dip slightly, trembling at being called _gorgeous_ because, well, has Karkat _looked_ at Dave?

Wait. Yes he has, he's doing it right now. He's looking at Dave _so_ fondly and touching his hair all gentle and Dave swallows and tilts his head up into the touch.

"Yeah." He breathes, a flutter of excitement building in his gut. "Yeah, Karkat, come on-" Karkat's mouth comes to press against his collarbone and Dave thinks _fuck yes_ and then says " _fuck_ yes, babe, please," moaning it out and arching a little bit, pressing it up into Karkat's mouth.

And oh _god_ the trembling gasp that is yanked from his mouth when Karkat starts his work- Dave's heels slide on the sheets as he moans.

"Hah- ahh- fu-uuck- please- please- GOD please- Karkaat-" He gasps. Every nip, every kiss, every _lick_ is jolting through him, right down to his dick and _yanking_ , tugging hard in his gut. "Your _fuckinngg_ mouthh- mmmmguhgh-" He chokes as Karkat goes back and re-layers a hickie and for a brief, blinding moment Dave wonders _'Could I cum from this?'_

And then Karkat starts in on the other side and it repeats _all over again_ and Dave turns his head to the side, panting like a fucking overheating dog, thighs shaking under Karkat as he babbles,

"nnghfhgh- fuck- fuck- Karkat- fu- _uck_ -" a sob, and he's trying so _hard_ he's trying so hard he wants to grab Karkat and kiss him _so bad_ but he needs to be good, he needs to be good or Karkat will stop touching him.

"Feels so fuckinggg- fuckin _good_ , babe-" His goddamn toes are curling, dragging on the sheets and there's nothing else but this- but the noises from his mouth and the weight on his hips and the _devilishly_ fever-hot touch along his collarbone.

When Karkat pulls back Dave slouches into the bed, exhaustion crashing down on him, his limbs trembling and spasming with tiny little muscle tics. His back had been arched for who-knows-how-long and now his shoulders were paying for it, aching and throbbing.

"Baby." Dave gasps, sucking in deep breaths through his mouth. "I can't fuckin take another one of those-" He shudders. "You'll fuckin _kill_ me, baby."

“But you’re doing _so well_ ,” Karkat croons, and with his words he reaches down and palms Dave’s cock through his jeans. As he expected, Dave is hard as steel beneath his hand, straining against his jeans. “You’ve been such a _good boy_ so far, keeping your hands still, making all those lovely sounds. Gonna make you feel so fucking good, baby, I promise. Deserve all _kinds_ of praise for being so fucking _good_ for me, baby...”

He pops the button on Dave’s jeans, which comes away easily since it was already strained. Unzips his jeans _slowly_ as he crawls down the mattress, placing soft kisses all down Dave’s panting, writhing body as he goes.

Karkat pulls aside his jeans so that Dave’s cock is free but still covered by his boxers. He looks up at Dave through dark eyelashes, making sure he’s watching as he brings his mouth to Dave’s cock, and mouths him through his boxers.

He groans against Dave’s boxers, wanting nothing more than to yank the waistband down and swallow Dave whole. It’s a test of his own willpower right now just as much as Dave’s, as Karkat makes the front of Dave’s boxers _damp_ with his administrations.

With one hand Karkat slides it up Dave’s leg, then moves his arm underneath to rub and squeeze Dave’s balls while he continues practically making out with Dave’s cock through the the fabric of his boxers. His other hand rubs up and down Dave’s inner thigh, squeezing his hand to match the movements of his other hand and tongue as they all fondle Dave in a perfect tandem.

Dave jerks up off the bed with a choked wail as Karkat touches him, thighs jumping as his hips try to buck up into the touch.

He's actually going to die, this is going to kill him, gasping and heaving like a wounded fucking animal, his cock is _throbbing_ from being so turned on again so fucking quickly and it hurts but as Karkat starts mouthing over his dick Dave sobs.

"Karkat, pl- _ease_ I can't, I can' _tuuh_ , uh- huhh-" Karkat's touch is _torturous_ , too much and not enough and his thighs are shaking, only kept in place by Karkat's entire fucking weight on him.

"I can't- I _can't_ , Karkat, Kar-Karkaaat- please, I'm gonna-" Dave _can't_ endure this, it's too much- he's already so fucking sensitive, his collarbone _aching_ and throbbing with heat and being touched and not being _allowed_ to touch that he's pulling at the pillow, squirming and hips trying to buck, trying to squirm away. "Gonna- Gonna fucking-" He sobs around the words. "Gonna _cum_ , Karkat, I can't- _please_ -"

Dave is absolutely _writhing_ beneath Karkat now, saying his name over and over, and Karkat moans, his mouth still pressed into Dave’s cock.

He pulls away breathless as Dave tells him he’s close. God, Karkat doesn’t have Dave out of his boxers yet. He got him this way for a _third_ time, with nothing but his mouth and his words?

The fire has taken over completely now, scorching through Karkat’s bones, and he’s growling through his heaving breaths as he finally _rips_ Dave’s boxers down, letting his cock free.

“You _can_ , baby, you’re doing so _good_ ,” Karkat grasps Dave’s cock, giving it a firm pull upward and practically drooling as he watches a thick bead of precum gather at the head. “You wanna cum for me, baby? Be a good boy and cum, come on, baby, I’ll take you there—“

And he can’t wait any longer, can’t keep poor Dave waiting any longer, he’s sobbing under him, _desperate_ to cum. Karkat decides to try out Dave’s trick from the shower, _let’s see how you like a taste of your own medicine, baby—_

He swallows Dave cock down and into his throat in one movement, and _moans_ long at loud at the feeling of Dave’s cock _slamming_ into the back of his throat, _fucking hell—_

Karkat’s eyes flutter open to look up at Dave, anxious to hear all about how he likes his own tricks used against him.

Karkat pulls away and Dave gives a _sob_ , "nono please Karkat _please_ -" and then he's _touching_ Dave again and he's so fucking close he's so close he's gonna cum, and Karkat's _giving him permission_ Dave is so fucking grateful

and his entire cock is _engulfed_ in warm, tight, _heat_ , and that does it, Karkat just swallowed his dick down and is _moaning_ and how can Dave not cum, he can't, he can'thecan' _hecan't-_

It tears though him so hard that he has to he _has_ to slam a hand over his mouth, a near-scream leaving him, his vision going white, eyes rolling back, arching off the bed, toes digging into the sheets as every part of his body tenses, pulsing, barely a spurt getting pushed down Karkat's throat, practically cumming _dry_ , sobbing into his hand, biting his knuckles because _he's being too loud_ , he's being so fucking loud, it's what Karkat wanted but he's being _too fucking loud-_

and like a guitar string under too much stress, everything snaps all at once and Dave goes crashing to the bed, shaking and sobbing, thighs quivering, spit sliding down his chin as he squeezes his eyes shut- everything's so fucking _sensitive_ , Karkat's hands on his body, the sheets under him, the aching of his dick, the bruises on his collarbone, the flush of heat and hot tears on his cheeks- it's all too fucking much.

"K-aahkaaah-" Dave sobs around his poor teeth-marked knuckles.

Karkat holds on to Dave’s hip as Dave arches his entire back off the bed, and practically _screams_ as he cums. There isn’t much to swallow, not to Karkat’s surprise, this is the _third fucking time_ Dave has orgasmed in the span of just a few hours. He gulps down what little cum is there down easily, keeping his eyes on Dave the entire way through it. And how can he _not_ , he’d be committing a fucking _crime_ if he looked away right now.

Dave has to clap his hand over his mouth to muffle his scream, and although Karkat told him he wanted to hear every sound, the fact Dave is so loud that he _has_ to muffle his sounds is even hotter to Karkat.

He’s pretty sure that’s his name Dave is sobbing out as he bites down on his hand, and Karkat _whimpers_ at the sound of it, grinding his aching clock into the mattress as he slowly pulls his mouth away from Dave’s completely spent cock.

“Come here, baby,” Karkat moans, breathless, as he crawls up the bed and pulls Dave into his arms. He needs Dave’s hands on him now, why the fuck did he even make that a rule, so fucking dumb, it was torture—“Did so good, so _fucking perfect_ , fuck, so good for me, love you _so much—_ “

He kisses him all over, an endless barrage of kisses anywhere he can reach. He’ll never have enough of kissing Dave, nevernevernever—

Karkat wraps his arms around Dave and flips him over, easily to manhandle him when he’s pliant and loose from cumming, so Karkat’s on his back, still fully clothed with Dave shirtless and his boxers and jeans pushed halfway down his legs on top of him. And _that’s_ the hottest fucking thing ever, Karkat honestly wishes he’d gotten Dave’s pants and boxers off altogether so he could have Dave completely naked on top of him right now. But he focuses on kissing him instead, running his hands up Dave’s back, humming contentedly against their mouths.

He did good, he did good- Karkat is calling him _good_ and _baby_ and flipping them and Dave gasps and sobs, throwing his elbows out to rest on either side of Karkat's head, Karkat didn't say he could touch and he's being _good_ he's being so fucking good, hips jerking slightly where they're pressed against Karkat and he can't fucking close his mouth, can't stop panting, gasping and heavy in his chest as desperate tears of overstimulation slide down his cheeks.

Karkat's trying to kiss him and Dave _wants_ but his head is spinning and he has to pant, has to try and catch his breath, breathing low, little noises out from his throat, gaze unfocused as he slumps into Karkat, barely able to keep himself up on elbows with how much he's trembling.

Karkat's hands on him are _good_ and he's being so good now and not touching like Karkat said, panting wetly against his mouth, eyes fluttering shut.

Karkat pulls away when he realizes Dave still needs to catch his breath, giving him a moment to come down, rubbing his hand up and down Dave’s back soothingly.

“That’s it, baby. You did _so_ good…” Karkat whispers, watching Dave _rapturously_ , in awe how he could be this fucking lucky, to be with him here like this…

Karkat notices that Dave’s hands are clenched on either side of Karkat’s head, and Karkat realizes with a jolt that goes _straight_ to his dick, still throbbing in his jeans, that Dave is still not touching him, because Karkat _told him not to,_ and Karkat _hasn’t told Dave he could yet_. And _god_ that is so fucking hot, Karkat wants to kiss him so bad right now but Dave’s still breathing heavy and he doesn’t want to be a dick, but if Dave doesn’t touch him soon he’s going to explode.

Well, he’s gonna _explode_ when Dave touches him either way, but that’s the good kind.

“Sweet fucking christ, D, _please_ , please touch me,” Karkat whines, “Need you, baby…”

Dave is trembling when the permission comes and he sobs with relief, sinking both of his hands into Karkat's hair and pulling him into a wet, messy, desperate kiss, still panting in between presses, in between deep thrusts of his tongue into Karkat's mouth.

Karkat, who's moaning now, and he's so hard against Dave- Dave who can touch now so he _does_ , releasing Karkat's hair with one hand and shoving it down between their bodies, not bothering with anything but plunging it into Karkat's pants, cupping over Karkat's dick and letting the heel of his hand grind against it.

" _Baby_ -" Dave whines, "You too, baby-" He wants it so bad, wants to be good and make Karkat cum, make his-

his-

he can't think, but there's _something_ waiting to press forwards, but he can't grasp it, his fucked out brain skipping over the word- he wants to make _his_ \- cum, Karkat cum, wants to be good and help him.

Karkat's stomach flutters when as soon as Dave has permission to touch him, the first thing he does is sink his hands into his hair. He's sobbing in relief when Karkat begs him to touch him, and Karkat thought he'd just go right for his dick, because, well, obviously, right? But instead, Dave knows him even better than Karkat knows himself, and Dave's fingers running through his still damp hair and pulling Karkat into a desperate kiss makes Karkat's back arch off the mattress, pressing his body closer to Dave's, never close enough.

When Dave comes up for air, still breathing heavy, Karkat moans against his lips, praise tumbling out of his mouth, "So good, so perfect, _yes_..."

Dave takes one hand away from Karkat's hair and wastes _no_ fucking time plunging his hand down Karkat's pants, the button of his jeans popping open from the strain. Dave's hand grinds against his dick and Karkat _lurches_ and cries out in a high moan, _throwing_ his head back.

God, this is not going to take long.

"D-Dave-e-e! Fuck, god, _yes_ , just like that, baby--"

Karkat's moaning and begging and he's so close so Dave lets his head drop and sucks on Karkat's neck, working his skin between his teeth desperately, finding enough space to curl his hand over Karkat's dick and twist, pulling and huffing in Karkat's ear.

He wants- he wants to feel it, wants Karkat undone too, undone under him, this is his reward, he _earned_ it for being so fucking good, he was good and now he gets to make - to make - _cum_ , and his brain is fuzzy and he can't think right but he knows this, know the physicality of it inside and out, better than he knows himself, and so he grinds and pulls and sucks on Karkat's neck to make him _cum_.

Dave moves down to his neck and is _biting_ down the same moment he twists Karkat's cock, and that's it, Karkat's done for--

"F-f-f-fuck, yes, nnnmmm--" Karkat yanks Dave back up so he can kiss him hard as he feels his orgasm building in his gut.

He barely has the wherewithal left at this point but the tiny bit of logic left in his blissed out brain tells him he does not have a change of pants and underwear in his fucking schoolbag, so he keeps one hand gripped in Dave's hair while the other scrambles down to pull up his shirt and yank his jeans and boxers aside as much as possible, and as soon as his cock is free Dave has enough space now to _really_ jerk him, and it only takes once, and Karkat is crying out against Dave's mouth as he cums in his hand, a weak drizzle sputtering out feebly onto his stomach and down Dave's fingers.

Karkat cums with such a perfect, gasping cry and it fills Dave's belly with such warmth that he gives a pleased little sob, kissing Karkat, a wet, messy slide of their mouths as Karkat's cock jerks and Karkat breathes and Dave breathes and the heat between their faces, between their mouths is dizzying.

Dave lies there on top of Karkat, swallowing, trying to breath enough to get his braincells working again. "Fuck." He says weakly. Everything is so fucking sore and fucking _sticky_ again, god dammit and he's so fucking wrung out but he feels _good_.

Holy shit. Karkat just fucking _dommed_ him. When did he learn- that was- He didn't go down but that was.

_Incredible._

And Dave was _good_ through it. That, more than anything, fills him with a soft, embarrassingly pleased heat. Maybe he's not as broken as he thought.

He slowly props himself up on his elbows, looking down at Karkat who looks a _mess_ \- face flushed, expression vaguely unfocused and kinda fucked out, mouth open as he pants, hair absolutely mussed to shit and back- and Dave knows he must look worse.

"Karkat." Dave croaks, voice hoarse. "If we fuck again today I think my dick will break. Or my brain. My dick and brain will both break and then we'll both be really really upset."

"Motion seconded," Karkat says with a groan, "I'm gonna need about a gallon of water, a fucking power nap, and like...24 hours before I can risk it. Otherwise my dicks gonna fall off."

Karkat's vision is blurring on the edges as he looks over at Dave laying beside him, and a sleepy, pleased smile pulls at his lips. Dave's hair has dried in a messy bedhead all over his head, sticking out in every direction. His skin is still tinged pink, the bruises on his collarbone have started purpling _quite_ nicely, and his is still heaving as Dave gasps for air.

"Did I ever tell you how incredible you look after sex?" Karkat asks, reaching over and poking Dave in the shoulder.

Dave ducks his head a bit, swatting at Karkat's hand weakly. "I'm a fucking mess, dude. Don't even try it." He says on a snort, but his cheeks are flushed.

"Sides." He groans, doing a weird-looking long roll of his body, trying to stretch his muscles out and crack his back, which was only partially successful, but there was a series of pops along the middle of his back and he moans in relief. "You fucked me up, Karkat." He gives Karkat a lopsided grin, bringing one hand up to ghost over his collarbone- which is basically purple all the way across.

Suddenly feeling soft and sentimental, Dave leaned in and bumped their foreheads together gently.

"Ain't no one else like you, baby." Dave murmurs. "All these fucking years apart- not a one compared." He means it. Not a single fucking person made Dave feel that fucking _good._

Karkat snickers sleepily as Dave swats his hand away. He figured he was pushing his luck with that one, but he sees the way Dave's cheeks burn with the compliment. Practice really does make perfect.

"A _hot_ mess," Karkat says with a cheeky grin, as he watches Dave do a body roll to crack his back, and despite how tired he is Dave's moan of relief when something in his back pops makes Karkat's stomach do a flip. God, he's really got it bad.

Karkat's cheeky grin pulls even wider in triumph as Dave tells him how he fucked him up, running his fingers along his collarbone. "Look good when I fuck you up," he says, and man he really can't stop throwing out the compliments now that he knows it makes Dave happy. He's finding any stupid excuse, especially now that his "Karkat says dumb shit" filter is completely turned off with his post-sex sleepy afterglow.

He hums contentedly as Dave leans down and bumps their foreheads together affectionately. "Then kiss me like y' missed me, D."

" _Baby_." Dave groans in despair. "If I _do_ that, that'll lead us right to the path _where my dick and brain break._ Do you want to be responsible for egging me on? For getting us to that point? No? I didn't think so."

So instead, he tilts his head a bit and presses their mouths together gently, just a soft little press of their lips. It's another gross, wet kiss, but- it's fucking perfect.

"My head fuckin hurts so bad." Dave mumbles against Karkat's mouth, which, spell of perfection gone, way to go. His head _is_ throbbing, though, now that all the hormones have started to settle and his body has decided that _'hey I would really like water now, you dehydrated bitch'_ is a more important thing to focus on.

Karkat happily accepts Dave's kiss, and then scoffs gently when Dave mentions his headache. Yeah, he was right there with him. He's cum _three_ times in as many hours, all he's got in his system other than Dave's fucking cum is chamomile tea, so that's not doing him any favours, hydration wise.

Karkat flops back onto his back, trying to blink the sleep out of his eyes, threatening to drag down his eyelids as he hikes his pants back up and--oh fuck, right, he came all over himself. Karkat groans as he sits up, pulling off his shirt the rest of the way, careful that he doesn't smear his fucking jizz on it, and tosses it aside.

"I've got some protein bars and my water bottle in my bag, that sounds like just what we need right about now, was gonna have them at the gym after class but I think I've gotten enough of a workout in today," Karkat yawns, swinging his legs off the side of the bed and groggily getting to his feet. God, why did he leave his school bag all the way out by the front door, so far away...

Karkat goes out to the common area, grabs his whole bag, and comes back to the room. He moved slowly at first but the second he was out of the room, he realized it was the first time he's been separated from Dave since all this started and a panic grows in his stomach and he's desperate to get back to him.

He comes back into the room and plops down on the edge of the bed, tossing Dave a protein bar and taking out his water bottle, twisting off the cap and knocking it back like he's been in the desert for a month.

Dave snorts a little at Karkat's joke, and clambers unsteadily to his feet as Karkat gets up. He is the awkward foal, it is him. His legs trying their hardest to fall out from under him but he has been walking for literally years so he IS the master of walking.

As Karkat steps out the door Dave hunts down the towel, finds it in the corner of his room (???) and plops back down onto his bed, wiping down his face.

He glances up to the open door, and it's only the fact that Karkat's clothes are literally still on his floor and Karkat wouldn't be leaving butt naked from his dorm that allows Dave to push down the little flutter of worry in his belly.

Because yes, Karkat comes back and wow that's a big ass water bottle. He catches the protein bar that Karkat tosses him and offers the towel in exchange, tearing the bar open and taking a big fucking bite.

"Fuck." Dave moans a bit. "This shit is good, what the fuck." He squints at the packaging. "I thought all these were supposed to taste like chalky ass. Isn't that part of their _'charm'_ or something?"

Karkat unlatches from his water bottle with a long sigh, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. He screws the cap back on and drops it on the bed between them so Dave can have some too. He accepts the towel gratefully, instantly wiping the cum off his stomach with a grimace before tossing the towel unceremoniously back on the floor.

He tears into his own protein bar, smirking as Dave devours his own bar like a ravenous fucking wolf. He takes a bite out of the bar and oh fuck, oh god that's good. Karkat is suddenly acutely aware of the fact this is his first bite of food all day and after three rounds of _very_ boisterous sex he is fucking _starving_ just as much as he is dehydrated.

"Most of them taste like ass, it took me a few tries to find a brand I liked when I first started going to the gym," Karkat says through a mouthful, "they've got a shitload of different kinds too, but this flavor’s the best one. It's like a protein _brownie_."

He picks up the water bottle and shoves it into Dave's chest. "Stop stuffing your face and _drink_ , fucker."

Dave makes an understanding noise at Karkat's words, only to choke on his mouthful of bar as the water bottle is shoved into his chest.

"Ohkay, ohkay, moher hen." He says, his mouth full, fumbling to unscrew the cap and take a drink. It hurts a bit, going down with the bar, but _god_ the water is refreshing as shit.

He gasps a bit as he lowers the bottle, screwing the cap back on. "Christ, has water ever tasted so fucking good before?" His headache's already receeding, his body's ridiculous """need for water""" satiated.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, leaning over to bump their shoulders together before changing his mind and dropping his head onto Karkat's shoulder instead.

"Want some real food?" Dave asks with a yawn. "I have ramen in an _exquisite_ range of flavors."

" _Ohmygodye_ s that sounds amazing," Karkat gives an honest to god groan of ecstasy at the thought of a hot bowl of ramen noodles.

Karkat smiles softly at Dave as he rests his head on his shoulder, and leans down to kiss Dave's temple, savouring the moment for a bit longer. Then he ruffles a hand through Dave's hair and gets up, bending down to pick his shirt off the floor and pull it back on. His whole body still feels very warm, even with the window open letting in the cool fall air, so he rolls his sleeves up to his elbows.

"You have any eggs? I've been on this kick lately where I crack an egg or two right into the pot with the noodles while everything is cooking and I swear it turns even the shittiest, cheapest ramen into a decent meal. Plus I'm not hungry within an hour, and for a college student on a budget that's a god send." Karkat goes over to the table where Dave put his shades down and offers them to him.

Dave grins at the ruffling of his hair before rising up to his feet and stretching again. "That sounds fucking amazing." He says.

"I'm like. 80% sure we have eggs?" Dave squints a little in thought. "Yeah." He takes his shades from Karkat and slips them onto his face with a grin.

"Thanks, babe." He says and leans in to give Karkat a little kiss. "Come on, lets go make cheap ass food."

He scratches a hand through his mostly-dry hair as he yawns, sauntering out of his bedroom. God. He hasn't felt this good in... literal years, holy shit.

The kitchen is off to the right of his rooms, so he just steps out and goes over to his cupboard and opens in.

"Hey, babe, what flavor do you want?" Dave asks. "I've got chicken, beef, pork, sh _ohmygod._ "

In the process of asking, Dave had turned back to look at Karkat and, as a result, looked across the main area to the other side where the communal couch is.

The communal couch, where Sollux is currently sprawled out on his laptop, giving Dave a pointed stare.

Dave puts his face in his hands as he plops down at the kitchen table, thoroughly embarrassed.

"How long have you been back?" He asks in despair.

"Long enough." Sollux drawls.

Karkat hangs back as Dave heads into the kitchen to take another long pull from his water bottle before putting it back in his school bag. He’s walking the distance from Dave’s room to the kitchen and hears Dave calling out to him, asking about ramen flavours when—

Dave _squeaks_ in terror like he just opened the cupboard and found a severed human head or something.

Karkat makes it out to the kitchen by the time Dave is sitting with his head in his hands at the dining table, and though his face is covered by his shades and his hands Karkat can see his ears are _very_ red.

It’s then Karkat finally notices the other person in the room and he nearly shits out his own heart with the realization that he _walked out here shirtless and covered in jizz_ less than a minute ago, too fucked out and sleepy to notice Sollux Fucking Captor was sitting right here the entire time.

“Fuck me running.”

"Pretty thur Thrider'th got that handled, tho no thankth." Sollux drawls.

Daves makes a noise a bit like a deflated squeaky toy being stepped on, buring his face in his folded arms.

"Hi Kk." Sollux says. "I thee you've met my roomate, Dave." There's the biggest, shit-eating grin on his face. "You two are _tho_ lucky that John ith'nt back yet, he would have been traumatithed for _life_."

Sollux is way too amused for someone who just overheard his roomate having mind-blowing sex.

“Oh fuck right off, Captor.” Karkat barks at him, rolling his eyes. He can feel his cheeks burning, but he and Sollux have always had a relationship more apt to call an unending pissing contest. Always trying to one up each other, seeing who can land the biggest diss. So he isn’t about to let Sollux make him disintegrate, much like Dave already has.

It’s not the most orthodox of acquaintances Karkat has, but he’d like to think that he and Sollux had some form of unspoken understanding between the two of then that this is just how the two of them were.

From an outsiders perspective, people would be fair to assume the two of them _hated_ each other. And sure, they haven’t hung out in person since they stopped being classmates, but they still talked online often enough, though it had been a while. Funny enough, Karkat had just been thinking the other day about Sollux, and what he was up to these days.

This isn’t exactly how he’d imagined reconnecting with his old friend would go. And Karkat already knows he is never, ever, _ever_ going to live this one down. Sollux would have this trump card on him for the rest of time.

So fuck it, nothing he can do about it now, right? He’s too delirious from hunger to care, so he rolls his eyes at Sollux’s shit-eating grin and goes into to kitchen.

“Dave, get the fuck up and help me, I don’t know where any of your shit is.” Karkat grumbles softly to Dave, who’s still trying to become one with the dining table, as he starts opening cabinets at random.

Sollux just snickers in the background as Karkat snaps at him, returning to his computer.

At Karkat's words Dave slowly sits up, his face in his hands again, before he takes a deep breath and drops them.

"Right." He says weakly. "Okay, um. Yeah." Dave gets his feet, his face still burning, but steps over to help Karkat make ramen.

"I am never ever going to live this down." Dave mutteres to Karkat as he puts the pot on the stove. He glances over at Karkat contenplatively and gently presses their sides together. "Worth it, though." He decides.

Karkat leans into the press with a smile, then goes to the fridge to hunt down some eggs. Dave’s got a pot of water on the stove waiting to boil, with two packets of ramen sitting on the counter. Karkat leaves the two eggs on the counter beside the ramens packets and then...well, that’s about all the meal prep required for instant ramen. Now it’s just waiting for the water to boil.

They could just stand here like idiots waiting for the water to heat up, but a watched pot never boils, so Karkat crosses his arms and leans against the counter.

Karkat peeks over at Sollux, who has taken the liberty of putting his headphones on (he’s pretty into the whole blue-and-red theme, huh? Did he paint them himself?). But Sollux isn’t blind, and even though he’s fixated on his computer screen right now, he’s still facing the kitchen. So making out with Dave to pass the time is off the fucking table, and Karkat glowers at Sollux a moment longer, until he sighs.

It has been five years, he and Dave have a _lot_ to still catch up on. While they’ve had a few intense conversations (and a few other intense-for-very-different-reasons moments) over the last few hours, they haven’t really had a chance to just...catch up.

Karkat looks over at Dave, who’s drumming a rhythm absent-mindlessly on the counter while he stares the pot down (so impatient!), and the sound of the beat on the counter brings a thought to Karkat’s mind.

“Hey, do you still make music?”

Christ, Dave knows you're not supposed to watch a pot boil or whatever but now that actual food is on the table he is _fucking_ starving and would really like it to boil faster please.

At Karkat's question he looks up. "What? Oh, yeah, a bit. It's kinda a hobby at this point to prevent myself from loosing my goddamn mind whenever Professer Harley assigns yet _another_ essay."

Dave likes the old man, but he's also batshit insane and loves grading essays _way_ too much. What kind of teacher actually likes that shit?

He shifts a bit, giving Karkat a grin. "I'll let you listen to some, if you want. You can tell me how worse I've gotten at it over the years."

He's joking. Mostly. Okay, maybe he's been a bit frustrated with his inability to put anything _good_ together right now. One sleepless night he was reduced to just recording himself saying 'dicks' in five different tones of voice and just. Fucking it up.

Yeah that was a weird track to wake up to next morning.

“Oh come on, you know I just pretended to hate your music back then,” Karkat says, “then you found out I had all your tracks saved on my phone and the jig was up.”

Karkat mulls over what he’s about to say next, turning around to spin one of the eggs around on the countertop. “Um...I sorta started making music, too. When I was like, nineteen or something. I was taking this music history elective, and I met this girl...who is hands-down the most talented chick I’ve ever fucking met when it comes to musical prowess. She has this guitar with a double neck, for fuck sake, she’s like this secret badass. You wouldn’t think it to look at her cause she’s got this dorky vibe. Anyway, she can basically pick up anything and play it, _and_ she was a great singer. Still don’t know why in the fuck she gave me the time of day, she’s like this ball of energy and sunshine and I was...well, a fucking angst-ridden teenage shitlord.” Karkat scoffs under his breath.

The water is starting to boil so Karkat rips open the packets of ramen and drops them in the water as he continues. “Anyway, she and I sat together in class and then started hanging out after school, talking music and shit. And we had this assignment in class where we had to perform in front of the class, and I was ready to about fucking die of an anxiety attack over it but she was like, no way this is gonna be sweet. I can’t even play the fucking _triangle_ , so she says we’ll do a duet, with her on acoustic. I felt like I was gonna _pass out_ , I’d never sang in front of a whole crowd like that before, but the class loved it, we got a perfect grade, and then Jade—oh, that’s her name, by the way—was like, _holy shit Karkat we gotta make music together.”_

Karkat tries one the drawers, and thankfully finds the cutlery on his first try, grabbing a fork so he can give the softening noodles a stir. Then he knocks the eggs on the counter and cracks them into the pot.

“So then I started writing some lyrics and she put them to music and I sang. She did some vocals on one song, but otherwise it was just me on vocals.” Karkat rips open the flavour packets and dumps them into the pot, “Jade did the rest, though. Composing, producing, editing, all of it. Posted everything on Spotify without telling me because she’s a fucking wolf in sheep’s clothing. _God_ , I was so mad at her.” Karkat laughs at the memory now, but he’d honestly been _mortified_ when Jade posted the songs. He thought they’d just been messing around, doing it to get their minds off of school, it helped Karkat work through _a lot_ of his emotions back then...and then all his feelings, all the deepest, most raw parts of him, were just exposed.

He didn’t talk to Jade for several weeks. She finally came over one day, uninvited, barging her way in to his house with a gluten-free veggie pizza, an armload of movies, and she even wrote him an apology song.

Karkat had regretted blowing up at her the moment he did it. He didn’t message her only because he assumed she wouldn’t want to be friends with him anymore since he was such an asshole. So as soon as he opened the door and saw her standing there, looking like a kicked puppy, and somehow carrying a pizza, a metric fuckton of movies, and her guitar all at once, Karkat started word-vomiting an apology before she could even get a word out.

She pretty much single-handedly pulled Karkat out of the pit of despair he’d been in for years, and Karkat would never be able to repay her for that.

Karkat realizes he’s been silent for a while, as he goes to get bowls out of the cupboard. As he dumps equal portions of the noodles into the bowls, he continues, “Anyway, she apologized—uh, profusely—we made up like nothing happened, and she’s probably my closest friend, even though I’ve only known her a few years. She moved away about a year and a half ago, studying abroad.”

God, Karkat still missed the hell out of her every day. Hopefully they’d be able to meet up again some day. He’d be able to write _much_ happier songs now. She’d like that.

“Anyway, let’s fucking eat,” Karkat says, picking up the bowls and handing Dave one steaming bowl.


	5. Chapter 5

Dave snorts a little, unable to deny Karkat's words. He leans against the counter, though, content to let Karkat basically word vomit an entire novel.

Honestly, just listening to him talk is... nice. Karkat's always had a nice voice, and now it's cracking edges have smoothed out from when they were teens, making it more melodious. Dave absent-mindedly wonders if maybe he can get Karkat to do some voiceovers or sound sampling for him.

He nods a little, though, as Karkat explains about Jade. She sounds like... a really cool girl. Someone he'd probably enjoy jamming and making with music with. And he'd like to meet Karkat's friends, introduce Karkat to his- yeah. The kind of things boyfriends do.

He accepts his bowl from Karkat and turns to put it on the table. "She sounds like a complete badass. You guys still keep in touch?" He asks. "Also, sure you don't want chopsticks, dude?" He pulls a set out and clicks them at Karkat meaningfully.

“Some of us aren’t flagrant otakus like you, I’ll stick with a fork,” Karkat says flippantly, “Otherwise I’m just gonna wear half the fucking bowl.”

They sit down at the dining table, and Karkat starts rooting around in his noodles for a chunk of egg. “Yeah, we still talk on Pesterchum. She somehow manages to make time to chat with me a little bit every day, even though she’s getting her fucking STEM degree at Caltech.” he shakes his head a little in disbelief as he chews his bite, “Because she’s also a fucking super science genius who’s probably going to discover alien life in another universe or some shit one day. So, yeah, case in point—Jade’s a fucking badass.”

Dave snorts, plopping down in the chair and tugging his bowl a little closer. "Caltech, huh? Yeah she certainly sounds it. I don't think you could _pay_ me to go to Caltech."

Partially, in point, because Bro is in that state. But that's neither here nor there.

"So what made you come to Chicago?" Dave asks before taking his first bite.

Karkat slurps up some noodles while looking up to give Dave a rather sheepish look. He chews his bite and then shakes his head with a small laugh. He figured the question would have to come up eventually.

“I have exactly two reasons and they’re both really dumb and you’re probably gonna laugh at me but,” Karkat leans back in his chair and holds up one finger. “Number one, I hate the fucking heat. I’d rather deal with Chicago in the winter than Texas in the summer. And number two,” Karkat puts up another finger, “because I fucking love _My Best Friend’s Wedding_ , and it always made me want to live in Chicago some day.”

He leans forward and slurps up another bite of noodles, asking through his bite, “What about you? What brings you to The Windy City?”

Dave does, indeed, snort in amusement. "Only you would decide where to live based on a _movie_." He says, but it's oddly charming, actually. And he would be lying if there wasn't a part of him that didn't have those secret ideas himself.

He sits back in his chair though and gives Karkat a sheepish grin. "Uh, twofold for me, too." He says. "First place I got a full ride to, so not about to turn that down- and I got an internship here, which'll put me up over the breaks."

Karkat plops his fork into his bowl to lean across the table and (fuck Sollux this is happening) kiss Dave on the mouth before dropping back into his seat with a grin.

“Fuck, Dave, that’s amazing. Good for you, man, seriously. Where’s your internship at?” Karkat asks eagerly as he pulls up another big forkful of noodles.

"Skaia pharmaceuticals." Dave says, blushing at the kiss and praise. "I applied for an internship and something must have caught their eye because one of the researchers there, Doctor Lalonde, reached out to me. We did a video interview and, well, she must have liked me because I got the offer that night."

She had also been.. more than a little drunk? Which was a bit concerning? But she seemed like the nice kind of drunk and Dave, as cheesy as it sounds, _is_ planning on going into chemical engineering, so like... he's not about to say _no_.

“Wow, that’s great. I’m really proud of you, Dave.” Karkat reaches over and pats Dave’s arm with a smile. “Seriously, man. I fucking _wish_ I’d gotten a scholarship but I’m not even sure they offer it for the bullshit I’m taking. If they handed out scholarships to every cockhead who decided _computer programming_ was a solid career choice, then the colleges would never make any money and then there goes the economy, I guess. And good luck finding a job in that field even when the economy isn’t in the fucking toilet, so you just end up holed up in your room, three years post-grad, eating takeout and playing Tony Hawk. But hey, no student loans to pay off, so fuck it, right?”

Wow he is an absolute word-vomiting windbag.

“Did you take any courses while you were in California?” Karkat asks in a rush, desperate to stop his incessant bullshit rambling.

Dave snorts again around a mouthful of ramen. "Don't you know?" He drawls. "Computer programming, biggest growing field. I'm sure you wont have any trouble." Sarcasm heavy in his voice, but also like, _huh_? Karkat's majoring in _computer programming_????

He shakes his head, though. "Nah. Not a one, I didn't really do much out of high school." He also hadn't gotten the chance. Like hell would Bro _pay for college_ , especially with... everything else going on down there.

“Oh, really? Yeah, I wasn’t sure what I was going to do after graduation, so I wound up taking a gap year,” _because of my disintegrating mental health_ , Karkat almost adds, but doesn’t, saying instead, “I decided to get a job and save up some cash so I could help my dad out. Kankri was finishing up his degree that year and I honestly had no idea what the fuck I wanted to do anyway, so, I just got this job working at Sburb Games. Not exactly a lot of hours, and my manager was a fucking _chode_. But the discount on video games made me stick around, so I opened up a savings account and, other than buying a few releases that came out that year, squirreled the rest away for school.”

Karkat picks up his bowl and gulps down some broth, then fishes around for the last few bites of noodle, determined to get every last one. “After that, I decided I needed to get the _fuck_ out of Houston. And one night me and dad are watching TV together, and _My Best Friend’s Wedding_ is on, so we watch it. And right around the point George says to Julianne _‘but, by God, there’ll be dancing_ ’, I looked over and told my dad I applied to Illinois Tech. Found out I got accepted not long after that, and now here I am. Three years in, one more to go until I can say I’ve got a BA in computer science.”

When he’s certain he’s gotten every last remnant of noodle and egg, Karkat downs the last of his broth and then looks up at Dave. “So, if you didn’t go to school, what did you get up to in California, just work? How long did you stay in the Bay Area before moving to the Midwest?”

Dave just nods along as Karkat talks, stuffing his mouth full of ramen which, by the way, is _fucking heavenly_ with the egg in there, holy shit.

He can picture Karkat standing behind the game counter, staring down a pissbaby gamer dude and Karkat getting more and more infuriated at his ranting and entitled attitude and the though of it is so funny that Dave barely manages to hold back a grin.

God. Karkat exploding at game store customers would be a thing of _beauty_.

But when Karkat asks about what Dave did, some of his amusement bleeds away and he gives a little shrug. He would really really prefer to not talk about it so he just kinda slides it off. "Work? Yeah, in a sense, I guess. Couldn't really hold down a proper job, so I just kinda. Gave up after a bit."

Unable to hold a proper job because of the fucking shitshow his life was.

"Figured out if I ever wanted to get out of that place I'd have to get a full ride somewhere so I started applying to every scholarship I could get my hands on."

He leaned back in his chair, tapping his chopsticks against his mouth. "Took me a year to get over being a depressed bitch and then another year and a half to actually get my shit together enough to apply for shit and get it."

He shrugs a little. "First day campus was open for move ins I packed my shit and left." His shit had essentially been a suitcase full of clothes and a backpack full of important shit. He was lucky enough to snag his birth certificate and ssn card before he left because life would be way worse without those.

"On my second year, now, and I don't regret it in the slightest." He gives Karkat a grin and knocks his ankle lightly against Karkat's leg. "Especially with you here."

Karkat smiles as Dave bumps his leg with his under the table. Dave is being deflective yet again, but Karkat isn’t about to start prying. Not with Sollux right here, at least. Besides, even if they were alone right now, he doesn’t think he would try, emotionally and physically drained as he is at the moment. He’s had enough intense conversations and crying for now. So instead he bumps Dave’s leg right back, rubbing his ankle up Dave’s calf before pulling away.

“It’s still so crazy to me that we both wound up in Chicago, we both go to Illinois Tech, and apparently like going to the same coffee shop,” Karkat shakes his head slightly with a laugh, “it sounds like we’ve been right under each other’s noses for at least the last two years. As wild as it is to have run into you at all, I...I wish it could’ve happened sooner.”

_Maybe then the chasm between us wouldn’t be as gaping as it is now._

Karkat pushes the thought away as quickly as it surfaced, looking back up at Dave. He’s got one of the dried veggies from the ramen seasoning stuck to his lip, and Karkat snickers at the sight. He reaches across the table, swipes it off Dave’s lip with his thumb, then without thinking, licks the finger clean.

Then, also on impulse, Karkat asks, “Do you want to go to Navy Pier with me tonight?”

"I know, right?" Dave says on a snort. "Like literally what are the fucking chances."

It's probably astronomically low. _Infinitely tiny_. The universe must be looking out for them, _somehow_. Or maybe someone up there took super hardcore pity of Dave. Or Karkat. Or both of them.

Thankfully Karkat doesn't press more about Dave being in California because Dave would really rather avoid talking about that shit for as long as possible.

He flushes a little bit as Karkat thumbs his mouth, but then blinks.

Is... is Karkat asking him on a _date_? His belly flutters with warmth, so of course he has to prop his elbows on the table, interlace his hands, and drop his chin onto them.

"Ooh, Mr. Vantas." Dave says in a faux-breathy voice. "Are you asking me out on a _date_? A _rendezvous_?"

Karkat rolls his eyes at Dave’s antics, trying to scowl but it twists into a crooked smile instead. He swats at one of Dave’s arms, shoving his elbow off the table as a result. “Of course I am, you _dork_ ,” he says, and there isn’t a trace of annoyance in his voice, nothing but warmth.

Karkat sees that Dave’s finished his ramen now too, so he gathers up their dishes and takes them over to the sink. As he stands at the sink rinsing out their bowls, his mind starts to race with possibilities, heart racing and the butterflies in his stomach going ballistic.

He hasn’t been this excited about a date in a very long time. Over the last five years, all Karkat felt before a date was nauseous. But now he can’t stop going over all the things he and Dave could do. They could walk along the pier, check out the shops inside when they wanted to warm up, then grab some dinner. End the night on the Centennial Wheel, because _of course_. He can picture them sitting in a gondola together, at the very top of the wheel, overlooking the Chicago skyline and Lake Michigan. And absolutely, 100% making out. It was gonna be fucking perfect.

Dave laughs as Karkat pushes at his elbow, catching himself as his elbow slides off the table and causes him to pitch forwards.

"Well, then," He says, shifting in his chair to drape an arm over the back, "how could I do anything other than say yes?"

The idea of it is making his stomach feel tight, a nervous clench that somehow is sending little bubbles through him, scared and yet also- also _so_ fucking excited. A _date_. With his _boyfriend_.

"Does this mean I can call you my boyfriend again?" Dave asks, tipping his head back to try and see Karkat instead of turning around like a normal person.

Karkat feels himself start a little at Dave’s question. Hearing the word _‘boyfriend’_ from Dave’s lips for the first time since...well, since all of this started, catches Karkat off guard for a moment. The moment quickly passes and is replaced by a tingling warmth spreading up his arms and into his brain.

His mind suddenly replays the moment Dave said _all mine_ while they were in the shower together, and feels a pleased shudder travel through his bones. Or when Karkat himself dropped the word while they were talking about Dave being able to take compliments. The word had just fallen out of his mouth without thinking, but he didn’t regret it.

He was Dave’s. And Dave was his.

They were going on a date.

Dave was his _boyfriend_ again.

Karkat slowly sets down the bowl he was washing, and turns off the water in the sink. Then he turns around, rubbing his hands off on his jeans as he walks over to Dave, who’s watching him upside down, his head leaning back. Karkat leans down when he reaches Dave, bringing a hand up to cup the side of his face, turning his head slightly and pressing his lips gently to Dave’s in an upside down kiss.

He stays like that for a while, savoring it, before he pulls away just enough to say, “Yeah,” and his voice is soft, “I’d like that.”

Dave watches Karkat set the bowl down and then- oh, _yes_ , please, this is so fucking Spiderman, getting to kiss his boyfriend upside-down, and okay, maybe it's a little awkward, but the warm press of Karkat's mouth on his makes it alright.

Wait, does this make Karkat or Dave Spiderman? Fuck, Dave wants to be Spiderman, that'd be so cool.

Karkat pulls back and Dave looks up at him as Karkat confirms that _yes, they're really dating again_ , and his stomach swoops so he gives Karkat a helpless, besotted grin.

"Fucking rad." He says. He feels warm and tingly all over, and his grin widens as he says " _boyfriend_." Just the word in his mouth makes him want to fucking giggle which is so fucking unmanly.

Karkat laughs, warm and breathy, slipping his arms around Dave from behind, his hands sliding down Dave’s chest. There’s nothing else in the world that matters to Karkat right now, nobody else here except him and Dave. Dave has a goofy grin on his face, his shades are starting to slide up the bridge of his nose in this position, threatening to fall off. Karkat is grinning right back, feeling like a lovesick fool, but he couldn’t give less of a fuck. He leans down again, squeezing his arms around Dave as he pecks him on the cheek.

Karkat pulls away and adjusts Dave’s shades on his nose for him. “So what should we do in the meantime, _boyfriend_?” Karkat hefts one dark eyebrow as he enunciates the last word, and then his lips pull into a smirk as he adds on, “or should I call you _tiger_?”

Dave snorts at the nickname, rocking his chair back on it's legs. "That's fucking _weird_ coming out of your mouth, dude." He says. "That's like me calling you _daddy_."

The moment he says it, though, Dave realizes he's fucked up, because his cock makes a valiant attempt at getting interested, a weird heat dripping into his gut.

Uh. Hm. That's...................................... new, thinking about calling Karkat that.

Dave tries _really_ hard to stick to the joke and not let any of his sudden turmoil in his belly show.

Karkat pulls backwards slightly, feeling his eyes practically pop out of his head at the word. Several things happen all at once, and then he has to process them all individually the millisecond afterwards.

Dave calling him _daddy_? The idea makes a surprised, nervous laugh burst out of Karkat’s mouth. Yeah, that’d be so weird! And it honestly made no fucking sense, contextually. They were the same age. In fact, Dave’s birthday was what, in two more months? Meaning he’d be 23, and Karkat would still be 22 until June. So, if anything, the one who should be calling who daddy was—

What the fuck was he thinking, no. What? That’d just be absolutely way too weird. No way.

There’s a feeling pooling in his gut that is similar to arousal, and he can’t be sure because there’s no way his dick can respond to _anything_ right now, but he can’t help but feel like it’s actually, maybe, possibly _trying_ to, despite the conflicted thoughts in Karkat’s mind.

Karkat realizes he hasn’t said anything for a moment, and that his face has gotten incredibly warm. Trying to play it off, he laughs again and he hates how _high_ it is with nerves, and says, “Well, I already call you _baby_ , so we’re halfway there.”

Why did he say that. Why the fuck did he say that, like THAT. Why in the absolute, shithumping FUCK did he say that??

Karkat laughs and it sounds _nervous_ , but then he says _baby_ and Dave swallows and opens his mouth to reply but,

"Could you two lotherth _pleathe_ take your dithguthting flirting elthwhere?" Sollux drawls from over on the couch and Dave has to windmill a bit to keep his balance, jolting in surprise. "I would prefer not to vomit all over my laptop."

"Yeah, yeah, nerd boy." Dave snarks, but his face is hot as he brings his chair legs down to sit flat on the floor again, rising to his feet. "Shut up."

He grabs Karkat's hand and drags him back into Dave's room, shutting the door and resisting the urge to put his face in his hands.

"So!" He clears his throat."That was- weird! Haha. Ha, could you imagine?" Dave says, rubbing the back of his neck. "If, haha, I called you _daddy_?" Stop saying the FUCKING word Dave, it's only making that stupid shivery feeling in your gut grow. "Wouldn't that be weird?"

Karkat’s heart is hammering so fast, and he has no idea why. They _should_ just be laughing this off, right? It was just a joke. Dave was just joking.

So Karkat laughs, because that’s what they SHOULD be doing, and it comes out strained and forced and so fucking stupid, “Hahaha. Yeah! So weird!” he exclaims, scratching at his neck.

He feels like catapulting himself into a dumpster fire right now, because that would go better than everything happening right fucking now. He needs to change the subject so that this weird daddy train they’ve put themselves on doesn’t fucking derail—

“The only thing weirder than you calling _me_ daddy would probably be me calling _you_ daddy.”

—like that. Just like that. This is why he should stop talking.

As soon as the words leave Karkat’s mouth he clamps his lips shut, pressing them into a thin, crooked line. His face feels like he stuck it in an oven, and he honestly feels like running back into the kitchen to do just that, telling Sollux to crank that shit. He’d do it, too.

Why is he blushing so much at the notion of either one of them calling the other _daddy_? That’s so fucked up. It’s fucked up and he needs to stop thinking about it right this fucking second, right now, immediately.

“M-maybe I’ll wait for your birthday, huh? Until you’re, uh, old enough? Because then you’ll be _older_ than me so it’ll be more, like, authentic, right?? Heheh. If you’re gonna do it, gotta do it right.”

He should be wheezing with laughter right now, because it’s _FUNNY_. It’s a super good, funny joke. They are just being stupid fucks making daddy jokes right now, that’s all this is.

But he’s not laughing. He’s _kind of_ laughing, but it’s just a small, nervous laugh that he can’t seem to get out of his voice.

“But then again, time is fucking irrelevant and age is just a number so, like, fuck it, right?” Oh good god in heaven why is he _still_ talking? “So when you really think about it, it doesn’t matter who says it, really.”

They're both laughing and oh holy mother of fuck this is so _awkward_ and Dave's heart is beating so fast in his chest that it's uncomfortable but then-

Karkat? Calling _him_ daddy?

Dave is hit with a picture all at once, of Karkat squirming under him, hands tied to the bed, squirming and looking up at him with wide eyes, begging _'please, daddy-_ '

Oh.

Oh _no_.

Oh fuck. Karkat's blushing so hard and Dave knows he's the same but his gut is so fucking hot and his chest is hot and Karkat is still talking, still laughing nervously, and this is going on way too long to be ironic or a joke and it's making Dave's bones go wobbly like they've been replaced, but somehow, somehow, his legs don't shake as he steps forwards, closing the gap between them, his hands coming up to slide into Karkat's hair and grip it firmly.

"Karkat." Dave's voice is hoarse and he swallows, staring at Karkat. "Call me daddy."

Somehow, miraculously, his voice doesn't shake. At least all that training was good for _something._

Karkat is still rambling and he’s honestly spacing out at this point, fairly certain he is astral-projecting out of his body right now, he has no idea what he’s even saying anymore—

And then he plummets _right_ back down to Earth and shuts right the fuck up when Dave steps forward and grabs onto his hair and tells him to—

“Wh-wha...I...” Karkat stammers, blinking rapidly. He can’t. Sollux is _right the fuck outside_ , just sitting out there on his laptop.

The thought of it equal parts embarrasses him as much as it excites him. Just like the idea of saying _that_ to Dave.

Dave’s fingers are gripping into his hair, not even pulling, but Karkat’s eyelids are fluttering from the sensation anyway. What in the hell are they doing right now? This felt...so strange, so weird, his heart is beating so hard and so _loud_ in his ears he’s certain Dave can feel it, he’s standing so close.

He wants Dave to pull his hair. He wants him to say what he just said again, only _right in his ear_ , while _pulling on his hair_.

What the fuck was wrong with him?

And why did the fact it was so fucked up make it even more enticing?

“Um...” Karkat opens his mouth and closes it several times, but no sound comes out of his throat. Karkat gulps shakily, his breath shuddering. He can see his own panicked expression in the reflection of Dave’s shades. He looks away. He can’t look. He can’t.

Karkat stares off at nothing, biting at his lip. Takes a deep breath in. He wants to break out of Dave’s grip, see if the other will let him go easy or yank on his hair to keep him in place. He’s not sure which one he wants.

He parts his lips, and when he’s finally able to speak his voice comes out in only a whisper, “...Okay. D....d-daddy.”

Fuck. _Fuck_. Karkat's practically vibrating under his hands and his gaze is fluttering, going soft and quiet under his hands and oh holy fucking shit there's such a heady pulsing in his veins, waiting with breathless anticipation.

Dave waits eagerly, his chest hot, his face hot, flushed and staring at Karkat as Karkat squirms and glances away and

 _fuck_. God. The tiniest little whisper but Dave feels like his entire body is waking up, struck by lightening from the single, stuttered word coming from Karkat's mouth.

" _God_ , baby, that's fucking hot." Dave breathes, switching to a one-handed grip in Karkat's hair, those soft, curly locks spilling through his fingers as he fists it tightly. He feels dizzy, he wants to fuck Karkat so bad all of a sudden but he _physically can't_. His dick is straight up not getting hard out of self-preservation but god does Dave _want_.

He leans in a little closer, his breath washing over Karkat's cheek, feeling bold. "Karkat." He breathes. "You like this, don't you?" His other hand slips around Karkat's waist, settles on his lower back, tugs him close so their bodies are pressed up against each other, Dave's mouth to Karkat's ear.

This, _this_ is familiar territory. Maybe not with Karkat, but Dave knows this, knows this dance.

"You _like_ calling me _daddy_." He breathes.

The sound that comes out of Karkat as Dave grips his hair tight in one hand, pulls him close and whispers straight into his ear, is downright shameful.

It’s a soft, crooning _mewl_ , he’s not even sure if he could do it again and he certainly didn’t know he could even _make_ such a noise with his vocal cords in the first place.

Then again, he’s been finding out a _lot_ of new things about himself today.

“Y-y e ah...” Karkat’s voice comes out in a helpless, broken whine.

His dick isn’t even hard, it’s fucking incapable of that right now, but every other feeling is there. And the fact he can’t get hard from it all is _torture_ , and yet that also makes it _better_. Everything about this is so wrong that it’s right, in all the best ways.

This sudden desire is even worse than the one from this morning, where they clambered into Dave’s room and made love for the time in years, desperate and rough and passionate.

He knows neither of them are capable of it right now, but he wants to, _so_ badly. Even if it’s just Dave that’s hard, so Karkat can be fucked the way he’s _aching_ for right now. Even if means he can’t even cum dry, he wouldn’t care. He just wants, _needs_ Dave to pin him down, _anywhere_ , and fuck him while whispering into his ear.

Pull his pleasure out of him until it’s _painful_. Until he has to beg Dave to stop.

Karkat ducks his head down, shivering harshly as Dave’s warm breath tickles his ear.

“I like it...” Karkat sighs as he moves his head just a bit further away on purpose, so he can feel Dave’s fingers pull at his hair, “I l-like it, d—“ he chokes on a short gasp, he almost can’t even say it, it’s all too much, but he _wants_. He licks his lips. “I like it, daddy...”

Dave gives a slow, shuddering breath, starting to recover some equilibrium. Okay. Okay, okay. Fuck. Everything about this is so fucking hot, and hearing the tiny little whine Karkat gives makes Dave dizzy with the surge of power that floods his veins.

God. _God_. He wants to grind and rock against Karkat even though it would probably be painful, he wants to pin Karkat down and pull his hair until he's tearing up, wants to tie Karkat up and just have him lie with his head in Dave's lap.

God- god, has Karkat ever been dommed before? Is Dave the _first_? The idea of it sends a breathless anticipation through him.

And then Karkat's shifting and gasping and saying so softly, so desperately, that he _likes_ it. Dave catches the craning of his head, the pressure on his hair, and breathes out slowly, shudderingly, pressing his mouth to Karkat's ear.

"God." He murmurs. "Wanna fuck you so bad now, baby." With enough effort, he probably could, but- Dave doesn't want his dick to _actually_ break. So instead he tightens his hand in Karkat's hair. "But- later." Dave breathes. "Gonna fuck you so good later."

He presses a kiss to Karkat's neck. God. _God_. Dave can't stop clutching Karkat close, cant stop pressing him in with the hand on his lower back.

"You wanna watch something, baby?" Dave asks, grasping at something to do. "Want to curl on my bed with my hands in your hair?"

Karkat’s legs tremble as Dave whispers in his ear. He reaches up with shaky hands and clutches to Dave’s shirt, feeling like he needs to grab onto _something_ or else he’ll slip away.

He knows they can’t right now, even if they could both get it up, Sollux was here—and sure, they could be sneaky about it and that in itself had its own sexy perks, but—

But Karkat is a _loud bottom_ , even when he’s just regular amounts of horny. But right now it feels like this is the Most Fucking Horny he’s ever felt in his entire life, and he whimpers when Dave tells him ‘later’. He wants to whine, _no, not later, I need you_ ** _now_**

But there’s something in the denial, in the _anticipation_ , that makes it even better.

Dave is trying to pull them both away from this now, trying to find something to do, but Karkat can’t think clearly. What he _wants_ is for Dave to shove him into the nearest wall and kiss and fuck him breathless—but they fucking _can’t_ —

Karkat clings to Dave a little tighter, his eyelids lowering at the thought of cuddling with Dave in bed, with Dave running his fingers through his hair. It’s not sex, but it still makes a warm floaty feeling bubble in Karkat’s chest. He just can’t seem to snap himself out of this strange state he’s in right now, he doesn’t even know what the fuck to make of it.

He and Dave had liked to switch things up in the bedroom often, back in the day. They took turns topping, they equally enjoyed it either way, and just sort of did whatever the mood called for, whatever either of them was feeling in that particular moment. Dave called him a “power bottom” once, and Karkat figured that, yeah, that was probably the closest description there was for what Karkat was like when he wanted Dave to top. Because that’s how it went down, he would lie there and literally _boss Dave around_ , and (according to the man himself, so Karkat knew it to be gospel) Dave loved it.

But this was an entirely new, completely alien sensation.

Karkat didn’t just want Dave to top him, he wanted Dave to take care of him, in every possible meaning of the phrase.

And that feeling persisted now, as this sensation still overwhelmed him, since he could get no physical release. But Dave was still trying to help him. To _take care of him_.

“That...sounds nice,” Karkat murmurs softly.

Wait. Dave relaxes his hold in Karkat's hair, a little bit surprised at how easily Karkat is leaning into him, at how soft his boyfriend (!!!!!!) is going. When Dave tilts his head to look at Karkat's expression, it's so... slack and soft. He's never seen Karkat like this before, so _submissive_.

 _Holy shit_. Is Karkat is subspace just from Dave pulling his hair?

Oh, that should _not_ make Dave's heart squeeze as hard as it does.

"Come on, baby." Dave murmurs, pressing a kiss to his cheek. His legs feel weak, and he sends a silent, fervent prayer of thanks to Damara as he gently shifts them over to his bed. "Lemme grab my laptop."

After a minute of maneuvering, Dave manages to get them so that he has his back pressed to the headboard, Karkat between his spread legs, back to Dave's chest, laptop resting on their outstretched legs. Like this, with Karkat slouched down, Dave can bury his fingers in Karkat's hair and gently scratch at his scalp.

"This okay, baby?" Dave asks quietly.

Karkat lets Dave get them set up in bed, feeling practically drunk with how dizzy and heavy he feels. A small part of him feels a bit bad that Dave has to do all the work right now, but then again—that’s exactly what he wanted.

Karkat sighs contentedly as he leans back against Dave, his eyes fluttering closed as Dave massages his head, his fingers running blissfully through his hair. He already felt like he could float off the floor, but the feeling only intensifies with Dave’s administrations. He doesn’t even register whatever it is that’s playing on Dave’s laptop right now. He can’t even remember where either of them are right now. Karkat’s bedroom, back in Houston, maybe? What time is it?

All he can feel is the press of Dave’s hands on his head, the low thud of Dave’s heart beating against his back. The sound of Dave’s voice completely drowns out the sounds from the laptop, everything is just Dave, Dave, Dave, and it’s heaven. Dave’s saying something. His voice feels like warm honey being poured into Karkat’s ears. Oh, he’s asking a question?

“Mhmmnnn,” Karkat replies, not even sure what it is Dave asked him. “Feels good...”

He reaches out, blind, just searching for the dull weight on his legs, until he feels cold metal. Off, off, off. Karkat pushes the weight away, off to some empty space on the bed, somewhere, it doesn’t even feel like they’re in a bed right now, it’s just him and Dave floating through warm air.

He scrunches up his face with the effort it takes to push himself up so that he can roll over, eyes still closed, lids too heavy to pry them open now. Karkat lowers his head back down onto Dave’s chest, now face down, his cheek pressed right over his heart and— _god_ , Dave’s heartbeat is directly in his ear now, and it’s perfect. He wraps his arms around Dave’s middle and buries his face into his shirt, feeling like he’s getting high on the scent of him, being lured into some kind of blissful lucid dream with every breath Dave takes.

Karkat pushes the laptop away and turns to press his face into Dave's chest and Dave's heart _leaps_ at the gesture, at Karkat pressing his face to Dave's chest over his heart.

"Christ, baby." Dave murmurs, stretching his foot to nudge the laptop a little further and straighten it out. He had put on Howl's Moving Castle, but it's really more of a background thing to give his brain something to focus on while cuddling his boyfriend (!!!!!!!!!!!).

Karkat is so fucking _soft_ , encased in his arms, his arms around Dave's middle, so Dave puts one arm around Karkat's shoulders, the other ending up in Karkat's hair, gently scratching at his scalp.

Having Karkat like this is making Dave's heart race, feeling warm and flushed all over. He wants to keep Karkat like this forever, feeling warm and safe and in Dave's arms so that Dave doesn't ever have to let him go.

"I love you, baby." Dave whispers, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of Karkat's head. "Love you so much. You're the best damn thing that's ever happened to me." He tightens his arm around Karkat's shoulders, just breathing in deep, breathing Karkat's scent, so warm and real and here in his arms.

“Mmmmm,” Karkat hums happily at Dave’s words and the kiss into his hair, feeling a pleased, sleepy smile tug at his lips.

He turns his face to press a lazy kiss to Dave’s chest, right where his heart is beating. It’s beating so _fast_ , like Dave just ran across a football field, but he’s not panting, his chest is rising and falling slow and calm, but his heartbeat is going wild.

He presses a few more kisses to Dave’s chest but that quickly isn’t enough. Karkat squirms his way upwards, resting his hands on Dave’s chest so he can still feel his racing heartbeat while he presses his lips against Dave’s.

He moves his mouth slowly against Dave’s, taking his time, too tired for anything other than just a soft press, moving his head to the side a little to get better access. He moans, low and content and sleepy, against their mouths. It feels like they’ve been kissing for a thousand years, and Karkat could go for another thousand and still not have had his fill.

He breaks away finally, brushing his nose against Dave’s, then against his cheek as he mumbles, “Love you more, D.”

Karkat wiggles up his body to kiss Dave and Dave could not be happier to just. Press his mouth to Karkat's and breathe slowly, trading soft little kisses, Dave cradling the back of Karkat's head.

"Yeah?" Dave asks, grinning like a fucking besotted fool. Which he is. He _very_ much is. "I don't think so, baby, I think I love you more." He murmurs. "I love you to the moon and back, you know. That's a real fucking large amount."

Dave could not give less of a shit about literally anything else. This morning was another dull slog of a day, another cold, windy fucking day full of grey skies and coffee that costs too much and the need to go to class.

But _now_ \- Karkat- _Karkat_ , is here. The boy he cried over more nights than not. Dave had torn his heart out and left it behind in Karkat's unknowing hands, and now it's _come back to him_ and everything is soft and warm and _bright_.

“Nuh-uhh, nnnope, love _yooooou_ more,” Karkat says as he buries his face into Dave’s neck, still pressing little kisses to the soft skin right on Dave’s pulse point between his words, “Love you to...to, uhh, fuckin’... _Alternia_ and back. Which is a planet that I just made up, but, oh man. It’s so far. It’s so far away you can’t even fathom it. It’s probably in another planar system of space time, it’s so fuckin’ far, my dude, holy shit...”

Is he still talking? His brain is complete mush.

“Fuckin’ Obama shows up at my doorstep one day, with like the entirety of NASA with him. He brought all of NASA, they carpooled. And he’s like, _Mr. Vantas, sir, our sources tell us you’ve discovered a whole ass motherfucking planet._ And I say, _why yessir Mr. Barack Obama, sir, I most certainly did do that._ And the CEO of NASA or whatever the fuck is like, _how far away is this planet?_ And I’m like, oh fuck, my guy. As far away as my love for Dave Strider stretches into the cosmos, I’m afraid if you want to get there you’re right well fucked. Do you even know how fucking far that is? Ooooh, so fucking farrrrr...”

He kisses up Dave’s neck, back up to his mouth because hey it’s been a whole like, six seconds since he kissed his boyfriend and that’s fucked right up.

Dave grins helplessly as Karkat starts to ramble and holy shit, if this is what Karkat is like when he's in subspace, Dave wants _so_ badly to see him get high. or Drunk. Just get him intoxicated in _some_ way and curl up with him and just let him ramble at whatever comes to his mind.

When Karkat kisses him, Dave kisses him back gently and decides to have a little fun.

"Damn, baby, that's so fucking much." He murmurs, bumping their noses together. "I don't know if I can compete with a goddamn planet _that far out_." He laughs softly. "That's okay, though." He kisses Karkat again.

"You love your daddy _so_ much, don't you?" It's amazing that he doesn't stumble over the word, but his face heats up a bit. "I want to hear you say it, baby."

He wants to hear Karkat's mouth shape the word, wants to hear it fall from his mouth again, watch him get squirmy and embarrassed.

Karkat’s eyes finally pop open and he stares at Dave after he pulls away from the kiss, and he’s watching Karkat expectantly.

Oh, right, that’s how they got here. Karkat’s brain is in such a fog he’d basically completely forgotten why it had gotten like this in the first place.

Was he really like this because of calling Dave that? Because of the way Dave didn’t ask, but _told_ him to say it? Because of the way Dave was _just barely_ starting to pull on his hair as he whispered into his ear?

The memory of it all comes rushing back to Karkat all at once, and he can feel his face heating up rapidly. It’s so...so _embarrassing_ , saying that word. It makes his gut clench and twist in the weirdest way, his face hot with...with shame? Pleasure? Maybe both? He honestly can’t tell.

He looks at Dave while pinching his bottom lip between his teeth. His hands clench and unclench around Dave’s shirt. He darts his eyes away, looking anywhere but at Dave.

He wants to say it, but it’s so _hard_. Will it really make Dave that happy if he does it? Why does Dave like it so much? Why does _he_ like the idea of Dave liking it so much?

Karkat squirms under Dave’s arm, feeling trapped here in this moment, on an edge. He wants to say it. He wants to, but—

“Wh-what will you do to me if I say it?” Karkat asks quietly.

Dave watches Karkat clearly struggle with embarrassment, his brow pinching up, his gaze skittering away, biting his lip- it's so fucking _cute_. Dave drinks in the sight of it, waiting patiently.

God. Dave wants to absolutely _wreck_ his boyfriend (!!!).

But.. what will he _do_ to Karkat? That's an interesting choice of words. Dave hums a little, fisting his hand into Karkat's hand again, gripping the locks in a firm curl.

"Can't exactly fuck you right now, baby." Dave muses, tilting Karkat's head back a bit with his hold, exposing more of his neck. "But... I can still make you feel real fucking good."

Karkat whimpers the second Dave’s hands grip into his hair and _pull_ , his head tilting back.

His eyes flicker closed and his mouth parts as his breathing comes out in shaking, weak breaths. Karkat has no doubt in his mind Dave will be true to his word. What he’s doing already feels _so_ fucking good, just the smallest tug at his hair and he’s already crumbling to pieces under his touch.

Karkat pushes his hips into the mattress weakly, and the dull friction sends sparks into his brain. He’s not even half-hard, he’s nowhere _close_ , and yet it still feels so fucking incredible...he wants to ride this high as long as he can, and he wants Dave to be there with him, to see how far he can go.

“W-want you to fuck me,” Karkat whines, leaning into Dave’s touch, gripping into his shirt desperately. “I’ve never wanted you so bad, I can’t take it, I _can’t_...”

Karkat’s eyes flicker open, and he looks down at Dave, his pupils blown wide, dark with desire. “I need to fuck me, I don’t care _how_ ,” he says, breathless and wanting, “if you can’t use your cock, use something else...”

He reaches for Dave, breathless, pulling himself towards his mouth, and moans against Dave’s lips, “I know you said later but I can’t wait any more, I _need_ you, please, _please_ , fuck me, daddy—“

Dave grins as Karkat whimpers, the sound like fucking heroin right into his veins. Pure _bliss_ , seeing the effect he's having on Karkat.

And god- he sounds so fucking _needy_ \- Dave literally could not say no, even if he _wanted_ to. Which he doesn't. He really, really doesn't.

"Shh, shh, baby." Dave breathes as Karkat moans and kisses him, and he gives a little tug on Karkat's hair. "Settle down for me, baby, I'll take care of you."

Christ. They're just trying for a world record over here, huh? Not that Dave's _complaining_ , but goddamn. His dick is _absolutely_ getting interested again, bit by tiny bit.

"Just relax for me baby, gotta be quiet as you can, okay?" Dave murmurs, bumping their noses together. "Can you get undressed for me?" His heart is beating. So fucking fast as he scoots over to find the lube again.

Karkat nods eagerly as Dave bumps his nose to his. He has to calm down. He takes a deep, steadying breath as Dave pulls away. Without Dave so close, taking over and intoxicating all his senses, he quickly tries to collect himself.

Karkat gets up off the bed and goes to pull off his shirt, then stops. He looks over at the door, leans over and locks it, though he’s pretty sure Sollux has no intention of coming in unannounced.

It was pretty fucking apparent that they could hardly keep their hands to themselves earlier in the kitchen, bumping up against each other while cooking, playing fucking footsie under the table, that upside-down Spider-Man kiss...all right out in the open, on full display.

But Dave did have another roommate who wasn’t as privy to such information, who could very well be back any minute now, so Karkat figured better safe then sorry.

He scrambles out of his clothes, down to just his boxers, and gets back on the bed, his heart beating fast, his thighs shuddering with uncontrollable tremors.

When Karkat gets up, Dave slips off the bed too and yanks his shirt off. He leaves his pants on, though, because he _really_ needs the barrier around his dick right now.

Fuck, maybe they should just stay naked for the rest of the day. At this rate, this is probably all they're going to do. He slips off his shades again and finds the lube. And his tissues. And for good measure he tugs his trashcan over, too. Gross fingers have always been his least favorite part of sex.

He climbs back onto the bed once Karkat's on it, and breathes in, then out. Pulling his full dom mentality forward- it's like pulling on a jacket. Takes a moment to get really used to, but familiar and cozy.

"Hey, baby." Dave says, grinning down at Karkat as he nudges his legs apart and settles between them, draping Karkat's thighs over Dave's legs, slightly spread. "You're going to have to be nice and quiet for me, okay?" He murmurs, leaning in. "But I like hearing you call me daddy."

God. Karkat willingly calling him _daddy_. Five years ago both of them probably would have spontaneously combusted if they even tried to _imagine_ it. Just goes to show how people develop.

"So you gotta keep your voice to a whisper for me, okay baby?" Dave murmurs, leaning over him and bumping their noses together.

Karkat nods shakily along as Dave talks to him in a low, steady voice that sinks straight down into Karkat’s bones. He’s pretty sure he’d let Dave do _anything_ to him right now, and do and say anything Dave asked of him.

He squirms beneath them impatiently, desperate for Dave to strip him down completely—he left his boxers on just so he could watch Dave pull them off, to still have that final barrier between them be literally stripped away by Dave’s hands.

Dave was behind the wheel now, and it was if Karkat could _smell_ it on him, it was so apparent. He’d watched with rapt attention as Dave climbed back onto the bed, took a deep breath, and _shifted_ , right before Karkat’s eyes. It’d made Karkat suck in a small gasp, made his heart skip a beat. His entire body is shivering uncontrollably now, and he can’t stop it. He wants Dave to put his hands on him, to try and still this uncontrollable shaking. To _take care of him_ , like he _promised_ —

“O-okay,” Karkat says, and he speaks in a whisper just like Dave asked him to.

If he does what he’s told then Dave will give him what he wants, he’ll take care of him. Karkat feels a moan building in his throat, and he bites down on the knuckle of his index finger, trying his best to muffle the sound that breaks out, and his back arches, as if his body is trying of its own accord to reach out for Dave’s touch.

Karkat feels small tears gathering in his eyes, and he’s not even really sure why. He’s feeling so many things at once, he’s not sure what brought them on. He blinks them away, worried it’ll make Dave upset to see him cry. He pulls his finger away from his mouth and looks up at Dave with a desperate expression, his lashes wet.

“ _Please, Daddy..._ ”

Dave watches Karkat squirm and do his best to be quiet and grins. And that _expression_ \- fuck, Karkat looking up at him with a helpless, vulnerable expression is really getting him going.

Shit, Dave's _known_ that he's got a thing for vulnerability. Both his _and_ other people's. His brain could literally hold up that 'we been knew' sign about it. Karkat, though- Karkat's is igniting heat in his belly that no one else has been able to draw out of him.

There's a lot, really, that Karkat can pull from him, seemingly without even trying to.

"Don't worry, baby, I've got you." Dave murmurs, after Karkat whines for him. He leans in and kisses Karkat firmly, his hands finding Karkat's hips and starting to work his boxers off. He's going to make Karkat _sob_ on his fingers until he's glassy-eyed and _so_ fucking far into subspace.

Karkat snakes his arms around Dave’s neck when he leans in to kiss him, sighing as though grateful, a moan building in his throat but he chokes it down, wanting to keep quiet.

He arches his back as Dave slides his boxers off and down his legs, shuddering the whole time. Karkat rakes his fingers through Dave’s hair, bucking his hips desperately.

 _“Hurry_ ,” It takes all of Karkat’s concentration to keep his voice at a whisper, so he probably sounds too demanding right now.

Part of him worries Dave won’t like that right now. All he told him to do was call him ‘daddy’. He wanted Dave to take care of him, he didn’t want to tell Dave what to do or how. But he’s going so slowly, he’s not _fucking him yet_ and it’s not _fair_ , he _needs him_ to fuck him— _“Hurry_ , daddy, please, _fuck_ me, daddy, _please-e—_ “ his pleading whisper cracks a little as a sob breaks out of his throat, and he has to bite down hard on his lip to muffle the sound.

Dave grins wider at Karkat's demands, at his begging whisper.

"You got it, baby." He purrs, kisses Karkat lightly, over his bit lip, and pops the lube open again. God, he's going to need to get more really really soon because he and Karkat are going to go through it _so_ damn quick.

He slicks up a couple of fingers quickly and slides the first one against Karkat's entrance.

"It's alright, baby, daddy's got you." Dave breathes. "Try and relax for me, Karkat, go nice and relaxed and I'll make you feel so good."

He rubs gently over Karkat's hole, massaging it for a moment before pressing the first finger inside, watching Karkat's face carefully.

Karkat’s whole body lurches as soon as Dave’s first finger goes inside him, one hand grabbing at the sheets while the other goes up to quickly clap over his mouth to hold back the moaning cry that threatened to come out at full volume.

It’s so good, it’s _so much_ , and not enough, he wants more, needs Dave to _move_ , needs him to add more fingers, but he told him to relax, Dave said if he can relax and be quiet he’ll take care of him—

How come Dave can call him _baby_ again and again and even though that always made him weak in the knees, it’s when Dave says his _name_ that drives him crazy? Dave’s voice wraps around it the same way it does the word _baby_ , and _daddy_ , even _boyfriend_ , like it’s the best sound in the world to him, like he can’t keep the smile off his face whenever he says it.

Karkat takes his hand away so he can take a deep, steadying breath, trying to do what Dave says and relax. He doesn’t even dare to move, the slightest movement shooting sparks up his spine from Dave’s finger pressed deep within him.

When he’s certain he can open his mouth and speak softly, Karkat looks at Dave, looking helpless and needy.

“M-more, daddy,” he begs, whisper-soft, _“please_...”

Karkat covers his mouth to muffle himself, just like Dave wants him to. He's trying really hard to be good for Dave and that makes fire settle into his bones, makes him and to push Karkat to see how far he can go, until he's sobbing-

no, chill out Dave. _Chill out_. This isn't one of Damara's subs looking to be broken this is fucking _Karkat_. Karkat, who is precious and perfect and needs cherishing, not breaking.

Dave needs to keep his fucking head together, holy shit. He is not about to accidentally ruin this by pushing Karkat too far.

But fuck, every time Karkat calls him _daddy_.... god.

Dave slides a second finger in, whispering, "there's my good boy, being so quiet for me. I'll give you more, baby, if you keep doing that." He gently rocks and twists his fingers inside Karkat, warming him up, getting him nice and relaxed. Karkat is so _warm_ around his fingers, soft and silken and Dave cannot _wait_ to get his dick into Karkat properly and make him fall apart from being fucked for real.

Dave adds a second finger and Karkat softly groans into his hand, his hips grinding against Dave’s hand. The stretch is _heavenly_ , deep and there’s an underlying burn but it’s like he’s chock full of morphine right now, making it impossible to feel anything other than pure, raw pleasure.

It makes him eager for Dave to keep going, to add another finger, to stop stretching him open and just fuck his fingers into him already, he’s _ready_ , come on, come _on_ —

What he can do that will make Dave as impatient as he is? He said he wanted to fuck Karkat so badly, so why is he taking his time? He thought he wanted to be taken care of but not like this, this slow and gentle press, he can’t _take it_.

Karkat moves his hand away from his mouth, then reaches over for Dave’s free hand, which is squeezing Karkat’s thigh. He grabs Dave’s wrist and pulls, leading his hand upwards.

Dave has two fingers still deep inside him, twisting around, opening him up torturously slow. Karkat takes _three_ of Dave’s fingers into his mouth, all the way down to the knuckles, sucking on them hard with a moan that, with his mouth full, is completely muffled. Perfect. He can stay quiet, and let Dave know just what he wants.

Karkat opens his eyes and looks at Dave through his lashes as he circles his tongue around Dave’s fingers.

Dave watches every twitch of Karkat's expression, every shudder and tremble and pant, his desperate expression so fucking _beautiful_ to see and it just makes Dave want to draw this out _more_ , to pull Karkat apart so carefully and delicately like cotton candy.

But then Karkat is grabbing his hand and pulling it up and pressing Dave's fingers into his _mouth_ and sucking on them, moaning muffled and desperate, staring up at Dave with a pleading, desperate gaze.

"Oh, baby." Dave grins. "You want more? That's alright, I'll give you more." He presses a third one right alongside the other two, so that he's only got his pinky and thumb free of Karkat's tight, clinging hole.

"Look at that." He croons. "Opening up perfectly for your daddy, huh? You just want to suckle on daddy's fingers, get filled up by me, needy and desperate in both holes. I bet I could keep you like this for _hours_ , huh? Just sprawling out underneath me and moaning so pretty?"

The words come easily, a ramble of filth and desire, he doesn't even have to think about it. It's new, tossing _daddy_ into his usual filth, but the more he says it, the more he likes it, likes the idea of it, likes seeing Karkat squirm at the sound of it.

His tongue is so wet as it presses along Dave's fingers and Dave wants so badly to fuck his fingers into Karkat's mouth, but he is _not_ talented enough to have both hands moving at once.

So instead he shifts the fingers inside Karkat, grinding them along his rim, tugging him open and playing with the spread of his hole before plunging them in deep, working the pads of his fingers along the soft walls, searching for the spot that will make Karkat see _stars_.

Karkat's cock is barely chubby, where it rests against his belly- if anything can get him hard again, it'll be this.

Karkat can’t even process the words Dave is saying, but it’s making him writhe and squirm beneath him regardless, just hearing the sound of his voice fill his ears while his fingers are buried deep inside him and the fingers on his other hand fill his mouth, muffling his sounds.

Every single one of his senses is filled with nothing but Dave, Dave, Dave, _Dave_ , heightening his euphoria even higher.

Dave’s fingers _dig_ deep inside him, twisting around, not just opening but _searching_. Karkat lifts his hips, curving the small of his back just so. It’s tricky from this angle, and he considers the thought of being on his hands and knees instead, but the fact he wouldn’t be able to see Dave’s face that way rules that idea out.

So he rolls his hips against Dave’s hands, arches his back the way he would if he were on his hands and knees, and—

Dave’s fingers twist just as Karkat curves his back and brush against Karkat’s prostate, just the smallest brush but Karkat’s vision goes _white_ and his entire body jolts. He has to bite down on Dave’s fingers to stop his scream.

Yes. _Yes_ , just like that, _yes_ —

A searing heat pools in Karkat’s stomach and then—Karkat almost can’t believe it, but the sensation is undeniable, as his cock finally, _finally_ reacts to Dave’s touch.

Karkat is making such tiny, soft noises, arching and wiggling under Dave and its _adorable_ , how hard he's squirming and trying to get more.

So Dave presses insistantly, presses harder, and then-

 _oh_ , and _then_ , Karkat jerks and his eyes roll back and he bites Dave's fingers (and _yeah_ that hurts, _ow_ -) but he makes such a muffled, breathy, strained noise around Dave's fingers, and Dave can only watch in glee as he trembles, tight as a bowstring, and his cock- it's actually trying to fill out _again_ , chubbing up ever so slightly.

"Good boy, being so good for daddy." Dave murmurs, breathless and awed. "You want to try for a fourth time, baby?"

He twists his fingers and then _rubs_ into that spot again, wanting to see Karkat buck and jerk, and yeah, his fingers are probably going to have permanent bite marks but what a _small_ fucking price to pay for Karkat's submission, his subspace, his beautiful, muffled noises.

So Dave finds Karkat's button and he doesn’t just push it- no he _presses_ it and doesn’t let up, watching eagerly. Will Karkat spasm? Will he sob? Or will his brain just shut down completely and make him pass out?

Dave's had that happen before. Best fucking feeling _ever_.

Dave begins to _ruthlessly_ push his fingers against Karkat’s sweet spot, and Karkat’s mind is a conflicting whirl of _finally finally finally yes yes fuck yes_ and _this is too fucking much and I’m going to die_.

His body pushes against Dave’s fingers instinctively, reaching out for more pleasure greedily. When heat shoots through him, straight to his dick and then up his spine, he rolls his hips back, taking Dave’s fingers away from the spot that turns his brain to static and fireworks. His mind and body are constantly contradicting themselves, begging for more and for it to stop, reaching out for more pleasure and then jerking away when it’s given.

He doesn’t know what to do. If he tells Dave to stop he’s certain he’ll feel so pent up it will be absolute torture. But if he forces a release, will it be _too_ much? What would even fucking happen to him?

He can’t think about this right now. He can’t think at all, period. There’s drool starting to drip from the corner of his mouth and down his chin, and it’s getting hard to breathe, so he opens his mouth and pulls his head back, Dave’s fingers sliding out of his mouth.

Then, he ruts his hips, angling himself into Dave’s fingers so he grinds his prostate right against them. He keeps his eyes locked on Dave’s, his bottom lip clenched between his teeth.

And he doesn’t make a fucking sound. Just stares down Dave, eyes filled with heat, and slowly nods his head.

Dave watches and lets Karkat pull away when he strains, when he twists away. His fingers are actually starting to hurt more than a little now, so it's a relief when Karkat lets them go.

Fuck, Karkat's gaze, so hot and desperate, his hips rolling into Dave' hand, nodding deliberately to goad Dave on, biting his lip-

His lip? Oh, no, that's a _bad_ idea. Dave pulls his fingers back enough that Karkat can't grind on them and reaches down to the floor, grabbing his shirt. It's a bit of a strain, but whatever. He drops it next to Karkat's head and gently rubs his thumb over Karkat's lip, working it free from between his teeth.

"Don't do that, baby. You'll hurt yourself." Dave murmurs. "Bite on this instead, okay?" He bunches up his shirt and presses it to Karkat's mouth. "This is safer, baby, chew on my shirt instead."

Karkat’s eyelids flutter a few times, blinking confusedly at Dave offering his shirt. Chew on Dave’s shirt? But he doesn’t want to ruin it. It’s already tattered on the collar and the hem, threadbare and well-worn.

Karkat looks from Dave to the shirt, unsure for a moment, but he wants to keep doing what Dave tells him to do. So he tentatively takes the shirt from Dave, cradling it in both hands carefully, away from his mouth.

He thinks back to that morning, standing outside on the street with Dave in front of him, shivering in the cold because he wasn’t even wearing a jacket. In Chicago. In late October.

Dave hated the cold, he hated _being_ cold. If he could prevent it in any way, he would, even if it meant wrapping himself up in dozens of layers. So if he hadn’t been wearing a jacket...did he even own one?

What if this shirt was one of the only ones Dave had?

He doesn’t want to _wreck_ it.

Karkat presses the shirt to his face, and breathes deep. He hums in pleasure, and clutches into the fabric, keeping it held against his face with his eyes still visible so he can keep looking at Dave while he clutches his shirt close, burying his nose deep into the fabric to breathe in his scent.

Dave waits patiently as Karkat takes the shirt, watching the fluttering, confused edge to his expression.

"It's safer than chewing on your lip, baby." He murmurs as Karkat brings it up to his face. His heart _melts_ as he watches Karkat smell his shirt, but instead of biting it he just... keeps it pressed to his face.

Fuck. Dave isn't going to lie, that's really hot and he gets hit with the sudden mental image of wearing Karkat's clothes.

Oh shit. Is he going to be the sweater stealing girlfriend? He might be the sweater stealing girlfriend because he really really wants to wear one of Karkat's sweaters.

He shoves that thought away as he grins down at Karkat. "There's my good boy." He murmurs. "Let's get you feeling real good, yeah Karkat?"

He presses his fingers back into Karkat, keeping his gaze locked with Karkat's hazy, desperate eyes, reaching for that spot again and shoving his fingers right up against it, starting a rough grind into his prostate.

Dave hasn’t stopped smiling, and Karkat isn’t sure anymore what’s filling him with more euphoric joy, Dave’s deep touch or his wide grin.

_I never want you to stop smiling. I want to make you this happy all the time._


	6. Chapter 6

Karkat presses Dave’s shirt tighter against his face, bunching it up in his fists but still handling it with care, determined not to do anything more than give it a few deep-set wrinkles. He rolls his hips against Dave’s hands, moaning softly in his throat at the heat pooling in his stomach. He doesn’t want to bite his lip to block the sound, but just holding the shirt to his face isn’t enough. He opts to press his lips together in a thin, tight line instead, taking in a deep breath as Dave’s fingers grind against his sweet spot over and over again.

God, it’s taking forever to get fully hard. He feels small, pitiful pulses coming from his cock every single time Dave presses into his prostate, but still he’s only about half-hard now. This purgatory is driving him crazy, tired of this precipice of too much pleasure and not enough.

“Already feels so good, Dav—daddy,” Karkat murmurs through the shirt, “like...like making you happy...seeing you smile...makes me feel good....”

Dave feels his grin soften into something desperately, disgustingly fond. "Yeah, baby?" He says, leaning up on the bed so that he can smooth Karkat's bangs back from his forehead. "That makes me feel real good, baby. I like seeing _you_ feel good. Love seeing you sprawled under me, love seeing you flushed and squirming cause you feel so good."

He drops a kiss on the exposed part of Karkat's cheek.

"Love you so much, baby." He murmurs. "Love making you feel so fucking good." He lets his thumb rub against the sensitive arch of skin behind Karkat's balls, a firm, circular massage. "Love seeing you tear up from how good it feels." He presses a kiss to the corner of Karkat's eye. "Love having you trying so hard to be quiet."

Dave grins helplessly down at Karkat. "I love being _yours_ , baby. And you're _mine_ , my good boy." He drops a kiss onto Karkat's nose. "Love being your _daddy_ , baby. Love taking care of you."

He's rocking his hand roughly again, fingers pressing into Karkat's prostate and on the pull back thumb grinding against his perineum. "I just _love you_ , baby." Dave breathes. It feels good to say, so fucking good- not just because he actually _can_ , he can say it without worry, but because it's _Karkat_ , it's Karkat here, looking up at him so prettily and letting Dave's heart just fill up to bursting, until it's overflowing and Dave _has_ to say it.

The _look_ on Dave’s face at Karkat’s words has Karkat’s entire body shiver with tingles.

Karkat sighs at Dave’s soft kisses, the sweet and gentle touch a conflict to the deep press inside him, the firm massage on his perineum. Like the physical embodiment of the conflict his mind and body is already under.

“Y-you’re making it really, really difficult to be quiet,” Karkat says, able to speak a little above a whisper now that Dave’s so close now, kissing his face.

He feels his cock give another lurch as Dave’s thumb rubs against his perineum deliciously, the same moment his fingers press deep into his prostate. It all happens the same moment Dave tells him he _loves him_ again, and it’s so much, so much, _so much—_

Tears are springing to his eyes again, his throat tight and thick with emotion. He swallows roughly, squeezing his eyes shut tight to blink the tears away.

He lets go of Dave’s shirt, dropping it onto his chest, and brings both arms up around Dave’s neck, pulling him in close, moaning right into Dave’s ear, not at full volume but as much as he dares without it being heard by anyone other than him. His sounds are for Dave and only Dave, his body, his heart, his breath, _everything_ —

“L-love being yours, too,” Karkat says breathily, squeezing Dave tight. “I’m yours, d-daddy, I’m yours—“

Dave chuckles softly. "Am I?" He murmurs, watching the shudder that runs through Karkat, letting Karkat pull him in, hug him close.

"Yeah, you are, baby." He murmurs, tingles running down his spine- _fuck_ , Dave doesn't think he'll ever get enough of that word coming from Karkat's mouth. "You're mine. You're all daddy's."

Karkat's _voice_ , so low and hoarse and soft in his ear, is sliding right down into Dave's belly and coiling up, hot and warm and good. Dave presses another kiss to Karkat's cheek. "You think you can cum again, baby?" He murmurs. "It's okay if you can't- we've already done it a _lot_ today. Do you want to try for one more?"

He presses another kiss. "Or do you want to stay like this for a while, just feeling good under your daddy's attention?"

Karkat turns his head the next time Dave comes in to kiss his cheek so he can press his lips, frantic and sloppy, against Dave’s. Karkat moves his arms from around Dave’s neck to cup the sides of Dave’s face, holding him in place.

All he can do is keep kissing Dave for a moment, wet and hot and messy, moaning between their mouths, bucking his hips into Dave’s touch.

He takes one hand away from Dave’s face to grab Dave’s free hand, intertwining their fingers and squeezing tight as he pulls away from their kiss to look at Dave.

“I w-wanna try,” Karkat breathes, “dunno if I can, but...wanna try, for you, daddy...”

Dave can only make a tiny, surprised noise as Karkat kisses him, messy and unexpected, but he presses into it, especially as Karkat cups his head.

He squeezes Karkat's hand back and nods a little bit. Karkat is so fucking adorable, trying so fucking hard to make Dave happy and feel good, and _god_ the way his mouth shapes the word _daddy_ \- nervous and breathless and desperate all at the same time.

"Alright, baby." He murmurs, leaning in and kissing Karkat lightly again. "Let's get you there." He crooks his fingers and presses right back up against Karkat's prostate- but he doesn't fuck against it, he presses his fingers firmly and _grinds_ firm, small circles against it, giving Karkat an unrelenting, unyeilding, _unbearable_ level of stimulation.

"Just relax and feel it, baby." Dave murmurs. "Does it feel like too much?"

_“Yes_ ,” Karkat groans, the back of his head grinding back into the pillows, “God, _fuck_ , it’s way too fucking much, _christ_ —“

Karkat uses the hand not gripping Dave’s to grasp behind Dave’s neck and pull him close, burying his face into Dave’s neck to stifle his moan. He has to be quiet, shit, he has to be _quiet_ —

Karkat runs a stripe up Dave’s neck with his tongue as he chokes down another moan, seeing stars. Dave isn’t letting up, and it’s _incredible_ , it’s so good it _hurts_ , he can’t take anymore, he can’t, he can’t, he can’t—there’s no way he can cum, it’s impossible, they should just stop, before Karkat _breaks_.

Karkat licks up to Dave’s ear, then nips at Dave’s lobe. He kisses Dave’s ear, panting, gasping at the intense touch deep within him, it’s too much, tell him to stop, they should just stop and rest and try this later, he needs to tell Dave to _stop_ —

“Dave, don’t you dare fucking stop.”

_Fuck_ , Dave never wants to fucking stop, wants to have Karkat shuddering and arching and twisting underneath him from stimulation. "Shh, baby." He breathes as Karkat's voice picks up, but Karkat is so fucking good, he's trying so hard to be quiet, muffling his noises in Dave's neck.

He's breathing so heavy, panting so hard, and Dave feels his body responding in turn- he's not even hard, he can't be hard, but he feels so fucking good anyway, like his entire body is warm and pleasured just from hearing Karkat's hitching breath and desperate gasps.

"That's no way to talk to your daddy, Karkat." Dave purrs, and sinks his teeth into Karkat's neck, nice and high up on his neck where the bite mark will be _very_ visible. "Better apologize." He growls through his mouthful of neck, giving a rough shove against Karkat's prostate.

_Fuck_. **Fuck**. **FUUUUCK**.

Karkat bites Dave right back, because he has to, or else he’ll cry out and then he’ll _really_ be in trouble then.

“Mmm _mmhhh_ —! _Fuck_ —I’m—mmnaah—“ Karkat lets go of Dave, but he doesn’t let go of his hand.

He unhooks his arm from around Dave’s neck and grabs Dave’s shirt again, pressing it to his face.

“I’m—s— _mmm_ —I’m sor—“ Karkat chokes on a sob as he buries his face deeper into the soft fabric, “I’m sorry, daddy, I’m _sorry_ —“

Karkat feels a tear slip down his face, or maybe it’s sweat, he can’t tell. He screws his eyes shut tight, stifling down another sob, trying to get himself under control before he slowly opens his eyes again and looks back up at Dave.

 _“Please_ ,” he begs in a whisper, _“Please_ , daddy, don’t stop...”

Dave swallows his moan as Karkat bites him, and the _noises- fucking chris_ t this is too fucking hot. He lets go of Karkat's neck as Karkat muffles his noises, which, _hot_ \- but Dave licks gently over the mark he left.

He looks down at Karkat as he grabs Dave's shirt, choking out apologies and that sends _such_ heat searing down into Dave's belly, watching his boyfriend (!!) tremble and call him _daddy_ and say how sorry he is for backtalking... fuck, Dave just knows he'll be having wet dreams for _months_ about this fucking shit.

He leans in and kisses the corner of Karkat's eye as the tear slides down his cheek. "Good boy, daddy forgives you baby, I won't stop." He starts his firm, unrelenting grinding again, working his fingers into that spot over and over and _over_. "You're begging so sweetly for me, baby, how could I stop?"

Yeah, Dave doesn't think he could stop at this point unless Karkat told him to. It's like he's not even under his own control anymore, forced to watch and feel and do without thinking, focused entirely in on his boyfriend (!!), on his baby, on _Karkat_.

Karkat squeezes Dave’s hand in a vice grip as he’s wracked with a full-body shiver. He hikes up his legs, bending at the knee, his legs feel numb and—

Oh, _god_. The change in angle presses Dave’s fingers even _deeper_ inside him, as if that was even fucking _possible_ , and Karkat’s back comes right off the bed. Karkat throws Dave’s shirt away, across the room, throwing his arm back around Dave’s neck and jerking him down to crush their lips together so he can stifle the cry that threatens to come bursting out of him.

Karkat can feel it now, he’s fully hard again, finally, _finally_ —

He breaks away from Dave’s lips with a gasp, but stays close, his breath fanning across Dave’s face, making the blonde’s bangs flutter across his red eyes.

 _“Yes_ , daddy, fuck yes, just like that, yes, _yes_ ,” Karkat presses his lips anywhere he can reach whenever he feels himself about to cry out from the pleasure. Every time it chokes off into a soft whine, a shaking whimper, a sob. “Right there, right there, _fuck_ yes, yes, daddy, _yes_ —“

Fuck- Karkat's really feeling it, and it takes everything Dave has not to break character and quote the stupid meme line at him. He kisses Karkat back, letting Karkat cling to him, letting Karkat smother his noises and gasp and whine until Dave feels more settled, until he can speak without his dom jacket slipping all the way the fuck off.

"Where?" Dave murmurs, feeling a grin cross his face. "Here, baby?" He gives another grind of his fingers, but then settles his thumb back against Karkat's perineum again and, at the same time, "-or do you mean _here_ , baby?" massages both of the spots together, hard and forceful.

God. How long can he keep this up before his hand starts cramping? Will Karkat cum from this? _Can_ he cum from this? Dave doesn't know, but he wants to make Karkat feel as good as he can, for as _long_ as he can, until Karkat's fucked out and exhausted.

Dave’s touch is ruthlessly _relentless_ , it sets every one of Karkat’s nerve endings on fire with every deep press of Dave’s fingers.

It’s everything Karkat wanted from the beginning, for Dave to fuck him on his fingers, hard and fast with reckless abandon. Now that Dave is finally, _finally_ fucking him, all Karkat can do now is writhe against the sheets and do his best to stay as quiet as possible as he rides this out, sees how far he can go.

His cock is so hard now it’s bordering on _painful_ , Karkat isn’t even sure how he managed to get hard, especially _this_ much so, for a fourth time in the same fucking day.

Everything about this is completely new to him, and it’s dizzying. The intensity of it all, the contradiction, the sensation of what he can only think to call _humiliation_ when he calls Dave his _daddy_. The pleasure that’s so _much_ that it’s making his body numb to everything else, especially the pain. In fact it seems to twist and warp the sensation of the pain into pleasure—this is good pain, it’s _good_ —

Karkat has no idea if it’s even possible for him to cum again, but then again he didn’t think he’d even get hard, and here he is. How long would it take? Usually he has a pretty good clue of how long he can hold out, but he has no frame of reference for this.

It’s a never-ending contradiction of sensations. It feels like he’s about to _burst_ any second now, but it also feels like he’s _empty_ , there’s nothing left to give, he’s numb, the pleasure is so much he can’t feel a thing anymore.

His cock jumps and twitches occasionally as Dave’s fingers grind against his insides, and it’s the exact same sensation as when he cums, only happening over and _over_ again, with _nothing_ coming out. Not even precum.

Maybe his body is trying to give him the _sensation_ of an orgasm without actually _having_ one, as though telling him _there, you’re done, tell him to stop before you break apart_ —

As though on cue, Karkat’s cock twitches and _pulses_ , and Karkat chokes on a sob, looking down to see, but there’s _nothing_. His cock gives another weak pulse, but it’s no use.

Not long after this happens, the numbness gives out, and now there’s _pain_. Karkat’s insides are on fire, but now he’s burnt by the heat, and it’s like putting his hand on a stove, he wants to jerk his hand away.

Karkat _whines_ , his eyes squeezing shut, tears springing to his eyes and quickly spilling over. He wants to, _needs_ to say something to Dave now, but he can’t risk opening his mouth out of fear he’ll cry out from the pain.

“Sto— _Dave_ —nnn—“ Karkat attempts feebly, and this time he can’t hold back the sob that breaks out of him.

Dave breathes heavily as Karkat trembles and shakes and shudders and just falls apart underneath him, only there's nothing that means he's stopped falling apart, his legs jerking with every rock, every rub, and Dave has him, he'll catch him with each shove.

Karkat's breathing is so ragged and heavy, desperate and wet as he tries so hard to muffle himself, and then he's trembling and giving a sob and Dave feels his gut throb in response, heady and full, just at hearing Karkat's pleasure.

Then he squirms, a protest falling from his mouth, and this one doesn't sound good, it sounds like too much so Dave backs off, shushing Karkat gently.

"Too much? That's alright, baby, it's okay." He presses kisses to Karkat's forehead. "You did so good for me, baby. So well." He gently slides his fingers free, settling them a little more to relax on their sides on the bed, reaching for the tissues to wipe his hand clean.

"Look at you, baby." Dave breathes. "You're so fucking good, making daddy proud." Karkat's face- now that it's not pressed to Dave's neck he can see it, flushed and tearstained and beautiful, expression so helplessly overwhelmed. Dave presses another kiss to his forehead.

Dave pulls his fingers free and Karkat gasps with a strange mixture of loss but relief. As Dave is shuffling beside him, wiping his fingers clean on some tissue, Karkat is staring up at the ceiling and he can’t get the tremors to stop.

His brain is slowly clearing of the fog and as it does, sensations numbed by euphoria come back to him what feels like all at once. Karkat aches all over, he feels like there’s worms writhing around in his stomach, and he’s shaking all over.

Dave is telling him he’s good, but when Dave says daddy again Karkat winces, as if the word has stung him like a wasp.

Then his lip is trembling, and more tears fall down his face and he has no idea why. Another hiccup-sob comes out, as his face screws up, and he’s trembling even worse now with the effort it’s taking not to break down in tears.

He’s so confused. Why is he feeling like this?

“Can you...not say that anymore?” Karkat says, and he feels lower than dirt for saying it, and that does it. He can’t hold back anymore, and he’s breaking down into broken sobs.

Holy shit that was a fast drop. Dave had expected at least a _couple_ of minutes of Karkat being blissed out, but he's sinking right on down into the lows.

"Oh shit, yeah of course, Karkat." Dave says, stretching out next to Karkat, gently pulling him over onto his side. "It's okay, it's okay. Com'ere." He wraps his arms around Karkat, pulling him into a hug.

"I've got you. You probably feel like shit right now, yeah?" Dave murmurs, slowly rubbing Karkat's back. "Shaky limbs, hard ball in your chest, churning stomach, foggy brain? Anything like that?" His other hand comes up to gently pet over Karkat's hair. Not gripping, just- gentle pets.

Dave lists off symptoms and Karkat’s checking them all off in his head, even ones he hadn’t realized he was feeling.

But he doesn’t understand _why_ he feels like this. And how come Dave does?

“H-how did you know that?” Karkat asks quietly.

He’s coming down from his hysteria as Dave rubs his back and pets his hair. It’s a soothing, gentle touch. Karkat is still shivering, but he’s able to get a breath in a bit easier now, where before it felt like his throat was closing up. The walls weren’t warping around him as much, but his vision was still swimming. He can’t tell if that’s from how dizzy he feels, or the tears still swimming in his eyes and running down his cheeks.

“I don’t know wh-why I’m crying,” Karkat croaks curls up against Dave, “I’m—I’m sorry...but th-they won’t sto—stop...”

He feels so _confused_. His head hurts, his chest aches, he feels—so _frustrated_ with himself. Did he do something wrong. He was probably making Dave feel awful right now, and he’s just being nice because that’s what Dave does, but what if he never wants to do this again? What if Karkat is ruining everything right now?

Panic wells up inside Karkat, spreading like a disease. It brings upon a fresh bout of tears, his throat closes up again and he hiccups out another sob. Fuck. He’s fucking everything up right now. Just like he always does.

“I—I c-can’t—“ Karkat rasps, “I’m—sorry—“

His breaths are coming out in ragged gasps now as he sinks into a full on anxiety attack. And normally he knows exactly why he’s having an attack but right now? It makes no sense. It’s _scaring_ him. It’s probably freaking Dave out, too. He’s fucking everything up.

“I d-don’t know wh-what’s happe—ning,” Karkat chokes out between sobs that shake his entire body, and he squeezes his eyes shut tight.

Dave should just get up and walk out of the room right now and leave him to this...whatever it is. Or tell him to leave. He’s fucking everything up, all over again.

"Oh, no, no, it's okay, baby." Dave soothes him, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "It's okay- it's a normal thing that happens. I pushed you real fucking hard and now you're feeling the backlash of it." He hugs Karkat tightly, murmuring reassurances.

God. Way to fucking go, Strider. First subspace and you shoved him way too goddamn hard, you couldn't have just listened to your dick and _waited_ , he sunk so hard and now he's _dropping_ because of it and he's dropping _hard_.

Christ. _'Still a fuckup'_.

Dave squeezes his eyes against Bro's sudden, snide comment, taking a deep breath.

"You didn't do anything wrong, baby." Dave murmurs. "You did real good, but now your body is upset because you got pushed so hard so it's freaking out, it doesn't know what to do." He just pets more over Karkat's hair.

"Let it all out, I know, it's rough. It's real rough." He says softly, kissing the top of Karkat's head.

Karkat sniffs roughly and rubs at his eyes, desperate to scrub away these stupid years that keep falling. He really wishes he could stop fucking crying.

Karkat goes quiet, wanting to keep arguing— _Dave didn’t do anything wrong. Why do I feel so bad, it felt GOOD, right? This is all my fault, all my fault, all my fault_ —but he closes his eyes and tries to steady his breathing. He listens to Dave’s words, even if he doesn’t agree about the parts where Dave tells him he’s good.

Dave keeps kissing his forehead, stoking his hair so, _so_ gently, like Karkat is made of porcelain. After a few minutes he finally stops trembling, his breathing becomes more steady, and his mind is becoming clearer.

“It felt good,” Karkat whispers, and his voice is hoarse. He feels like he needs to say this now, a reassurance. He doesn’t want to make Dave upset, or make Dave think he hadn’t wanted this, that he hadn’t _consented_ to this. He’d wanted this. It felt good.

He’s still freaked out over his weird reaction. Dave keeps telling him that it’s completely normal, and he seems to really understand what Karkat is going through right now. Dave used to panic when Karkat had attacks like that, he never knew what to do. But this time, he said and did all the right things. Like he’d been in Karkat’s place before.

Does that mean he’s tried this kind of stuff with other people?

A rock drops into Karkat’s stomach. He thought that he and Dave had both had this realization for the first time, but Dave...now that Karkat’s head is clear, looking back on everything...Dave really knew what he was doing.

He’s done this before.

With who?

When?

...in California?

“Dave...when did you do this before?” Karkat whispers.

Karkat slowly seems to calm down, to settle, and Dave feels so fucking bad, he just put Karkat through _such_ emotional whiplash. He must feel like absolute shit.

So he just stays, petting Karkat's hair, pressing gentle kisses to Karkat's forehead, murmuring reassurances. As Karkat whispers on how he liked it, Dave feels a small pit in his belly relax and vanish.

"Good." He sighs, relieved.

But-

Well, pit back. Great. He was really _really_ hoping to avoid talking about this today- preferably, never. Hopefully. Who the fuck is he kidding, it would come up _eventually_. Just... Dave wishes it wasn't on their literal first day back together.

"I..." He sighs, just pressing his mouth to Karkat's forehead, trying to figure out what to say. "It's... a long story." He says quietly. "And not really a happy one, I guess. I don't really want to talk about it but... I guess you kinda deserve to know."

And, before he can talk himself out of it or give Karkat a chance to, he squeezes Karkat around the shoulder and starts talking, staring at the wall behind Karkat's head.

"I told you my Bro got a job in L.A." Dave says, and he can _hear_ how blank his voice his. His skin crawls just thinking about it. "I didn't tell you what of. He was a director."

His mouth flattens. "For porn. If you're wondering- no, _he_ didn't... make me be in anything. I guess there were lines even _he_ wouldn't cross. But... spend enough time around his company, and you... pick things up."

That's a hell of a way of putting it. Nice and evasive. If Dave is lucky, Karkat won't push.

Who the fuck is he kidding. Of course Karkat'll push.

It feels like Karkat’s insides are being pulled out of him, as nerves settle deep into his bones as Dave starts to speak. His chest clenches, hearing the blankness in Dave’s voice, and he curls closer against him.

Karkat had wondered what kind of work Dave’s brother had gotten in California, and he certainly couldn’t have anticipated the answer he gets. He thinks back to their conversation in the kitchen, when they talked about what they’d been up to in the last five years. Karkat asked what Dave had done for work since he hadn’t gone to college right after high school. And Dave avoided answering altogether. He still is, even now.

Karkat props himself up on his elbow and does his best not to frown. He understands this has to be hard for Dave to talk about, but...

Does Dave think Karkat will _judge_ him?

“What do you mean, you ‘pick things up’?” he asks carefully.

Dave grimaces, looking away as Karkat props himself up on his elbow. He really... really doesn't... want to look at Karkat for this bit.

God, he's a fucking coward. His belly is turning just thinking-

fucking _christ_. It's not even that big of a fucking deal. It's not. It's not.

"Well. You know." Dave says blandly, trying to deflect with shock. "Any teenage boy would jump at the chance to fuck a pornstar."

He feels disgusting the moment the words leave his mouth, skin crawling, stomach slimy.

Karkat blinks a couple times at Dave’s words, keeping his eyes on Dave but Dave isn’t looking at him anymore.

He looks _so_ uncomfortable. Karkat is torn between saying fuck it and just dropping this whole thing, and asking Dave for more details. Dave is still being evasive about this, which Karkat gets. He does.

But if they can’t get past this, then how can they ever truly move forward and be together? There can’t be secrets as big as this between them, or else the chasm will never close, it’ll only keep getting wider.

Karkat doesn’t know what the hell to say. He feels like he’s in a mine field right now, or defusing a bomb. If he asks the wrong questions, Dave will shut down completely and they’ll never get anywhere.

Karkat bites his lip, looking off in different directions as he tries to think of something to say. There’s something about Dave’s response that just seems so...off, somehow.

“Maybe most teenage boys would, yeah,” Karkat says, his voice soft and shaking, “but—but I don’t think... _you_ were like that.”

Dave says he wasn’t forced but...there’s just something about this that doesn’t add up, and Karkat can’t put his finger on it.

“Not because it’s _wrong_ , I mean...fuck, it’s a job, just like anything else, right? I don’t...I don’t _care_...I’m not upset, or anything, I hope you know that, but—“

Karkat pauses, takes a breath. He doesn’t want to ramble due to his frayed nerves right now. He tries again when he’s certain he’s calm.

“Dave, you—you could have done anything you wanted to. And if that’s what you wanted, then, that’s fine. But...did you think you didn’t have any other options?” Karkat asks.

Dave doesn't let himself flinch. He _doesn't._ Karkat's words are soft and Dave knows- he _knows_ \- the wrong fucking thing and Karkat's going to be _disgusted_.

No.

No, that's not- That's not true.

This is _Karkat_. What the fuck is Dave doing? Dave _knows_ Karkat.

....doesn't he? It's been five years. It's... been.

 _Five years_. Of... of being apart. Of change. Dave sure as hell isn't the same person- so why would Karkat be the same?

God. _God_. Dave just got Karkat back and now- now he... he's going to have to spill his fucking guts and everything ugly and disgusting will come out and Karkat... Karkat will...

he'll either- be okay with it... or he'll be disgusted and walk out that door and Dave will lose him forever.

Dave already lost him once. Losing him again...

it might actually kill him. But- it'd be what he deserves. Isn't it?

Dave realizes he's been silent for too long and sucks in a shuddering breath.

Fuck. Fuck! Fuck!!! He can't fucking do this. He can't. He can't-

He _has_ to. He _needs_ to. His options are do it and _possibly_ keep Karkat-

or don't. And push him away and lose him for _good_.

He reaches out and puts his hands on Karkat's shoulders, pressing him down onto his back. Dave presses up against his side, curling into him, dropping his head onto Karkat's chest.

"I can't- I can't say this if I'm looking at you." Dave chokes out. His gut is _roiling_. He's cold from head to toe.

"There are-" He's choking on his fucking words. On the sounds trying to put themselves together in an intelligent order to make sense. "-there are... some people you just- _don't_ say no to."

He swallows. Swallows again. If he doesn't, he might puke.

"Bro-" He feels dizzy. "He... he introduced me to..."

His mouth moves a couple of times. Trying to say it. Say her name. The name that haunts his thoughts.

"..... _Damara_." He chokes out.

Karkat is surprised when Dave pushes him onto his back, and for a split second he thinks _is he really going to kiss me right now to stop from having this conversation_ —but then Dave curls up against Karkat’s side and his voice comes out so _small_ and Karkat’s heart clenches. Then it starts hammering in his chest and he knows Dave can feel it, now that he’s pressed up against him, as Dave starts to explain further.

So, Dave’s _brother_ hadn’t forced him to do anything, but—

But this Damara person _did_?

Karkat pulls Dave by the shoulder to press even further into him, and then snakes his other arm underneath so he can wrap both arms around Dave in a vice grip. Karkat can already feel his blood starting to boil, and he has no idea what this person even did to Dave yet.

 _“Baby_ ,” Karkat breathes, and he feels like he’s maybe holding Dave too tight now so he lets up, and starts to brush one hand through Dave’s hair, slow and gentle. “What...what _happened_?”

Karkat holds him so fucking tight- it's- it's reassuring. Dave doesn't think he'll cry, but- he's cold. He's so fucking cold, he's so cold cold cold _cold_ -

But Karkat is _warm_. He's so _fucking warm_. And he's calling Dave _baby_ and he's holding Dave so _fucking close._

He's not pulling away. Dave is so fucking grateful for the- just the touch over his hair. He shudders.

"Bro wanted to _'make me a man'_ " Dave says hoarsely. He still remembers it, remembers that night, the wind on the balcony, the pulsing of the music from the party- and the woman who leaned on the railing on the balcony.

He'll never forget her dark, cold, _hungry_ eyes. Never forget the pressure on his shoulder of Bro's hand, pushing him in her direction.

Dave swallows again.

"Bro... paid her." He said blearily. "I think. For the first night. But then she... took an interest. And I wanted it."

He thinks. That first night was spent in a bleary haze of feelings. He doesn't remember much of it clearly. He remembers her voice and her _eyes_ and the way she would guide him. But after that, she would pluck him up and set him down where she wanted and make him _play._

Just like a fucking toy.

Karkat closes his eyes. He feels a muscle in his jaw twitch.

The way Dave says he “wanted” to be with Damara is the same way he said that every teenage boy dreams of fucking a pornstar. Like he’s been telling himself these things in order to believe it himself.

Or maybe he was told it by someone else, to the point he took it to be gospel.

When it was actually nothing but a crock of fucking _horseshit_.

“It’s okay if you didn’t,” Karkat says. And he’s shocked at himself for sounding so calm.

He’s pretty sure he’s never felt this angry before in his entire life, and normally his anger is a burst of explosive energy, boisterous and nearly fucking feral.

But right now he’s so mad he can’t even put a growl into his tone. His anger is normally _hot_ , makes fire pool in his face and his chest and his fists...but this feels ice cold.

He presses his face into Dave’s hair, and keeps running his fingers through it, keeps squeezing him close with his other hand.

“Because I don’t think you _did_ want it. At least that’s just the gut feeling I get. And I wish I could believe you wanted it, Dave, because that would be a hell of a lot easier to handle than the alternative.”

He’s never wanted to kill anyone before but he’s pretty sure this is what it feels like to want someone dead.

“I should have fucking hunted you down to the ends of the fucking earth,” Karkat mutters into Dave’s hair, “I should have never let you out of my fucking sight.”

"I did." Dave says dully. "It was better than staying at home with _Bro_."

Even as he says it though, he doesn't know if it's true. At least with Bro his anger was only ever one of two things.

Damara.... Damara got _creative_ when she was angry.

He doesn't know what was worse, the days he remembered where she would take him in hand dish out punishments until he was good again, back to what she wanted, or the days where... he couldn't remember _anything_ past her flint-sharp eyes.

Dave squeezes his eyes shut, letting the warmth of Karkat's body leech into him.

"Yeah." He finally says. "She... _taught_ me."

Karkat nods, knowing Dave can feel it as he’s pressed against him. He spends a while stroking his hand through Dave’s hair as he processes everything, thinking his anger will dissipate, but it doesn’t.

He can feel Dave’s heartbeat pounding against his own chest. Feel each breath as Dave breathes in and out.

What do you say?

What do you even fucking say, in a moment like this?

Karkat doesn’t know if his words even mean anything. What happened to Dave in California can’t be taken away by a few words. Karkat knows that. He knows there’s really no sense in being this angry over this, because that won’t take away Dave’s pain, either.

There’s _nothing_ he can do to fix this.

But he can close the chasm the rest of the way.

Or maybe, the chasm will always be there. Karkat can’t take those five years back and do them differently, no matter how much he wishes he could. He’s on one side and Dave is on the other. It’s been like that all these years and it’s been so this entire wild, incredible, overwhelming day.

Slowly but surely, he and Dave have been mending the cracks in the chasm, trying to fill that void with their bodies. And while that helped the chasm from splitting even wider, it didn’t make it any smaller.

But now, Dave has built a _bridge_ , and thrown one end to Karkat. He has the choice to catch it and secure it on his end.

And he does it without hesitation, of course he does. Now he can cross this chasm and meet Dave on the other side, take him into his arms...

And never, ever fucking let him go, ever again.

“Thank you for telling me,” Karkat whispers, and he presses a firm kiss to Dave’s hair. He pulls away, because he needs Dave to look at him now, for what he needs to say next.

“I love you, Dave.” Karkat says, “I’ve loved you since I was thirteen. And I loved you every minute you were gone and I love you now and I’ll keep loving you.”

He pulls Dave back into his arms and squeezes him with all his strength.

“And nobody but me is _ever_ going to touch you again.”

Dave feels fucking numb. Just these handful of words, of sentences, have _drained_ him. His bones are so fucking heavy, his muscles atrophying. He doesn't want to ever move ever again.

He just wants to lie here and not move and stare blankly at the wall as Karkat's heat tries to warm him, as his heart pounds, as he listens to _Karkat's_ heart pound, head slowly rising and falling with each of Karkat's breath.

His stomach is still rolling, churning and working itself up untill its tied itself in knots.

Karkat is quiet. Dave wants to stay like this, in this moment, _forever_. Just breathing quietly and feeling... safe.

Feeling safe.

He's done the unthinkable. He's pried open the worst, ugliest shell of his and showed his disgusting, oily, dirty soul, and now he needs to wait for the judgement. Karkat is his own perfect angel, able to strike him down in a moment.

And Karkat- he tells Dave that he _loves him_. That he hasn't _stopped_.

Dave trembles and presses his face against Karkat's chest, squeezing his eyes shut.

"I love you too " He whispers hoarsely as Karkat hugs him. "So, fucking much."

He feels like he's finally _coming home_. Encased so tightly in Karkat's arms that all he can do is tremble and _breathe_. Smelling Karkat, shivering in his arms.

Karkat runs his hand up and down Dave’s back as he shivers, pressing kisses to the top of his head.

The blanket on Dave’s bed got bunched up down by their feet in the midst of Karkat’s earlier thrashing around, enough so that Karkat is able to let go of Dave for a moment, murmuring a quick “one sec, baby,” under his breath as he sits up and grabs it and flicks it out.

He looks over his shoulder at Dave, laying on his side and watching Karkat with an expression that looked completely _drained_.

He reaches over and puts one finger into a belt loop on Dave’s jeans and gives it a tug.

“Want these off you,” Karkat says softly. Dave’s still got his lower half covered up and Karkat’s got nothing on.

And yet Dave is quivering as though cold, and Karkat wants desperately to warm him up with his heat. Until it’s settled deep into his bones and he never even feels chill of the Chicago air ever again.

“You want to take these off, baby, or should I?”

_You took care of me. Now let me take care of you._

Karkat pulls away and Dave can't even bring himself to be panicked about it- oh. He's just getting the covers.

God. Dave's such a fucking screwup he's surprised Karkat hasn't walked out that door already. Every time Karkat says _I love you_ , Dave can't help but thinking _for how long_?. Sooner or later something'll come out that'll be too much, that'll push Karkat away.

But...

Well... Karkat's... already taken everything in stride. And he was _furious_ at Bro earlier. For what he did. That's... not the response of someone about to switch their anger.

Dave feels like a coward. Just blame it all on Bro, that'll make it all better. Blame it all on Damara, even though he's the one who went back over and over. Cause Dave doesn't have an ounce of blame in the situation, right? It's _aaallllllll_ their fault. Dave didn't have a single thing to do about it.

God. He's pathetic.

When Karkat tugs gently at his belt loop, Dave feels fucking exhausted. "Pretty sure I can't move right now." He says, by way of an answer.

Karkat nods again. “That’s alright, I got you.” he says.

He twists around and undoes Dave’s pants and then he pulls them down and off, boxers and all. As much as Karkat enjoys seeing Dave naked, there’s nothing sexual about the way he undresses him right now. It’s an intimacy without any heat behind it.

Karkat pulls up the covers and drapes them across the both of them as he lays back down. He tucks his arm under Dave’s head, takes him by the arm gently and guides him, situating them both until Karkat is flat on his back, with Dave laying on top of him, a mirror to the way they were laying here hours ago only now with Dave on Karkat.

Karkat pulls the covers close around them, and wraps his arms snugly around Dave, pressing a kiss to the top of his head when they’re finally settled in. Dave is still shaking a bit, so Karkat rubs his back, giving some friction so he can warm him up.

“How’s this, sweetheart, this feel alright?” Karkat asks in a soft whisper, and _that_ pet name is brand new, it just falls out him without his thinking. But he kind of likes the sound of it, hopefully Dave doesn’t mind it.

Dave just lets Karkat tug his pants off and then wrap the blanket around them and tug Dave around to sprawl across his chest.

Fuck, it feels nice. Getting to lie and touch and just _be_ with someone for other than the brief afterglow and the times he needed aftercare. He trembles a little bit, soaking in the warmth of Karkat, letting-

well. He says _letting_. There's not exactly anything he could do to _stop_ Karkat right now. Not that he would.

Dave swallows when Karkat calls him _sweetheart_. That's a new one.

"Yeah." He manages. "It's good."

It is. It feels almost _luxurious_ , getting to curl up with his boyfriend (...?) and lie here. Like Dave's indulging in some big fancy event. He's sure that any moment, someone would burst in and shout about how he's a party crasher, a thief-

His gaze darts to the door. Right. Karkat locked it. Right. He takes a deep breath, and lets it out.

".....yeah." Dave says after a moment. "So that's... about how my years in California went." He gives a weak little laugh, bitter and exhausted.

"Hating myself and fucking and drinking my way through it." He mumbles.

Karkat hushes Dave softly, squeezing him closer. “Shh, Dave, you don’t...you’re here now.”

Dave was safe. He was here with Karkat, finally back in his arms where he belonged, and Karkat should have done everything to make sure he stayed there. But he can’t take it back.

“I’m sorry all that happened to you, Dave,” Karkat says in a low voice, “I wish I could take it all away. But I can’t take away the last five years for you any more than you can take away mine. But...it’s all in the past now, and we can leave it there.”

Karkat pulls Dave up closer to his face, which is easy to do because Dave is light, and pliable against him right now, just letting Karkat move him where he wants. He kisses Dave on the forehead, down the bridge of his nose, then finally his lips. He kisses him soft and slow, still rubbing circles into Dave’s back.

“None of that shit matters anymore. What matters is you’re here, we fucking _found each other_ , when we weren’t even looking.” Karkat presses another kiss to the corner of Dave’s mouth, “and nothing is ever taking you away from me again. Especially not _myself_. You’re stuck with me for life, sweetheart.” He can’t help but smile when he drops the pet name again, cause fuck it, he’s using that one now since Dave didn’t instantly gag at the cheesiness of it.

And then, switching gears pretty drastically but he feels he needs to say it. Maybe if he puts it out there the universe will do him another solid.

“Oh, and if I ever see your limp-dicked barfpuppet of an older brother, I’m going to beat his ass into the fucking curb.” Karkat says, matter-of-factly while he plays with Dave’s hair. “The universe gave me one chance encounter, maybe it’ll hook me up with another. Who knows, maybe while I’m giving your Bro a beatdown, Damara will walk in and I’ll get a two for one deal. That’d be sweet.”

Karkat scoffs at himself a bit. “Sorry, baby. You...probably don’t wanna hear about that shit.” he says.

Dave's eyes go wide as Karkat brings his head up, but then they slowly close under the soft kisses. They feel like-

like-

like _something_.

Dave's only been to a church one time in his life. It was an old basilica, grand and high-domed and he only went there because one of Damara's subs broke down crying hysterically and needed someone to drive her to the church.

Long story, better not to ask.

Point being- Dave isn't religious. He isn't even close. If God exists, he sure as fuck doesn't give a shit about Dave.

But, walking into that church... Dave got it. He _got_ it. The stained glass, the quiet, hallowed air, the grand, beautiful designs on the ceiling and walls- Dave didn't know why, but his heart beat faster. It was just... _peaceful_. The votive candles lit and softly flickering, the polished, beautiful wood of the pews, Dave had wanted to sit there for hours and not move. Just be _still_ , for a bit.

The way Karkat's kissing him feels like _that_. The sense of quiet, soul-humbling, gentle peace just permutating his entire body. Benediction and forgiveness and salvation with every kiss.

Just _silence_.

Dave swallows. He doesn't deserve Karkat, but- Karkat _wants_ him. He's heard everything (that matters, anyway), and he still wants Dave, still wants to keep him.

He takes in a slow, shuddering breath, nodding at Karkat's words. That they're not going anywhere- not every again.

"Okay." He says softly, so, so, _so_ fucking grateful for-

for Karkat. For _everything_. For... fuck, even for god, probably. For giving him Karkat back. For letting him _keep_ Karkat.

He's taken aback at the abrupt tonal switch, blinking his eyes open in surprise at how- how _matter-of-fact_ Karkat delivered the threat. Karkat used to shout and rage and storm off whenever he was furious- but just saying it like that, so simple-

Dave presses his face into Karkat's neck as his shoulders shake. After a moment, he realizes he's laughing- clinging to Karkat, wheezing out helpless, choking noises at just- at _everything_. At the entire fucking situation, at his own fucking stupidity, at Karkat's 'I am going to commit an act of violence :)' tone, at- at the idea of Karkat seeing Bro on the street and just _launching_ himself at Bro and _beating his ass-_

Dave clings to Karkat and wheezes helpless, overwhelmed laughter. "I'd love-" He gasps, "love to see you- do it-" He snorts, "Bro getting- the shit beat out of him- by my _boyfriend_ \- whos a _foot shorter_ than him-"

Karkat’s a bit worried he might have overstepped a boundary as Dave buries his face into Karkat’s neck and starts to shake, and there’s a fleeting moment of panic, oh god, he fucked up, _why_ would Dave want to hear about him hurting his brother, even if he was a piece of shit he was still Dave’s _brother_ , what was he thinking—

But that quickly goes away when he realizes Dave’s fucking _laughing_. A bubble of laughter bursts out of Karkat, and it keeps growing as Dave starts to wheeze, barely able to get his words out through his laughter.

“H-hey! He’s gonna be—a _lot_ shorter than me once I drag his ass to a golf course—fucking shove him feet first into the 18th hole, grab a fucking w-wedge, yell ‘FOUR!’ and Tiger Woods his severed head into the ocean.” Karkat whole body is shaking with laughter, and the mental image is only making him laugh harder. “Then I’ll set up some banners and a ticket booth and charge people admission to watch the mysterious blood geyser in the 18th hole. Gonna buy my boyfriend a sweet set of turntables with the ‘kicked his brother’s ass and set up his beheaded corpse as a public attraction’ money.”

Dave snorts, laughing harder into Karkat's neck, clinging to him as he shakes.

"Fucking- brand new national attraction right there-" He gasps. "Biggest ball of yarn hasn't got _anything_ on the- the ~mysterious red fountain~, sell t-shirts with 'I came to the fountain and all I got was this shitty- shitty t-shirt (and also traumatized)-"

He wheezes helplessly. Fuck. _Fuck_ , how could he have ever been so fucking scared? This is _Karkat_.

Karkat knocks his head back with a laugh.

“Holy fuck, even better! F-fuck, okay, you know those Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff comics you did back in elementary school? You can set up a fucking _booth_ selling prints and t-shirts, and it’s just your bro getting kicked down a flight of stairs—“ Karkat claps a hand on his forehead, his head fucking hurts from laughing now but he can’t stop, “everyone’s walking around the green saying ‘I warned you about the stairs, Bro! I warned you, dawg!’”

Karkat snorts loudly as another wave of laughter overcomes him as he keeps going with this stupid fucking bit.

“We hire some dude to dress up in a Bro mascot costume, and people can beat him up with golf clubs,” Karkat snickers, “Some other dudes in a dunk tank, and the water is just filled with red Kool-Aid. No, fuck, _wait_ —apple juice so it looks like he’s just getting dunked in urine. Are you writing this shit down, Dave? I’m giving you gold here. Stop wheezing and go get a fucking pen!”

"Stop, stop- I can't fucking breathe-" Dave wheezes, listing to the side to shove his face into his pillow to muffle his laughter. His _lungs_ hurt, trying to get enough air. He surfaces to take a breath, but then, "Karkat you're going to _kill_ me-" He wheezes, grabs the pillow, and stuffs it over Karkat's face.

"You want to do that?" Dave asks, only holding it there for a moment before taking it off and staring down at his boyfriend (!!!) with an incredulous expression. "You'd do that to _me_? They'd have to put _death by laughter_ on my death certificate! How lame!"

Karkat grabs the pillow from Dave, still laughing, and shoves him down with it, knocking Dave onto his back. He rolls over, pinning Dave down with one arm, using the other to throw the pillow off the bed so he’s got both hands free.

He looks down at Dave with a smirk, no longer laughing as he runs his hands up Dave’s shaking chest and up to hold the sides of his face.

“Well, we can’t have that, can we?” Karkat says, lifting an eyebrow, “Better get you settled down.”

He leans down and kisses Dave firmly on the lips to muffle his laughter, smiling between their lips.

Dave honest-to-god _giggles_ as Karkat rolls them, smiling helplessly up at Karkat, tilting his head up to kiss Karkat.

"Hey, baby." Dave whispers against Karkat's mouth, sliding both of his hands into Karkat's hair and holding him close. "I love you so fucking much, you know that? I love you _so_ much."

Karkat’s heart melts, and he feels like putty in Dave’s hair, humming in pleasure as Dave’s fingers run through his hair. Fuck, he’s smitten, and it’s cheesy and silly and he _doesn’t care_ , he loves it.

“Yeah, I know, but you can keep saying it,” Karkat smiles, pressing a kiss to the tip of Dave’s nose, “I love you too, sweetheart.”

Dave's heart squeezes at being called _sweetheart_ and god he never wants to stop hearing that word from Karkat's mouth.

"Alright." Dave says and pulls Karkat into a soft kiss. "I love you." He murmurs. Kiss. "I love you." Kiss. "I love you."

Over and over, breathless and helpless, just quick little slides of their mouths.

Dave keeps going, saying _I love you, I love you_ between each kiss, and a grin spreads across Karkat’s lips that feels like it going to split his face in half.

You’d think the words would lose their meaning if they were used in such excess, but every time Dave says those three words Karkat can feel every last drop of that thick, black oil that had been coating body all these years being pulled off his skin, and he feels lighter than he has in a long time.

“Okay, they’re gonna put _died of an overdose of cuteness from boyfriend_ on my death certificate, Dave, holy shit,” Karkat can feel his whole face burning scarlet, and he feels _giddy_.

This morning had been like countless others, just the monotony of getting up out of bed, showering, getting the bus, grabbing a drink and heading to class. Rinse, lather, repeat.

Then, there was Dave.

Karkat had just been going through the motions all these years, just taking each day one at a time, never looking too far ahead because there just seemed to be no point.

But now here’s _Dave_ , Dave is here and they’re together again, and the future for the very first time looks so bright it’s _blinding_ , there’s so many possibilities he can’t even fathom them all.

They were going to the same college. They could meet up between classes, they could hang out at each other’s dorms. Help each other with school work, just like they did when they were kids. They’d graduate. Would they stay in Chicago, or find some place where they could both handle the climate year-round? They could travel all over and see what place they’d want to grow their roots in. They could move in together, share their lives together, and never be apart ever again.

The thought of it brings Karkat down onto Dave’s lips again, cutting off his tangent of _I love you_ s to just keep kissing him, giving him no reprieve.

“So, what now?” Karkat finds himself asking when he finally pulls away. “What do you wanna do?”

Dave laughs softly as Karkat's face goes red and he lets go of Karkat's hair to cradle the sides of his head instead, thumbs stroking over Karkat's cheeks.

It's like a infected, swollen wound had been lanced- it's still there, throbbing and hurting, it's still open and sore and painful- but the infection has been drawn out, has been pulled from it.

Like it's finally done getting worse. Like it might actually get _better_. Karkat's ripped off his shitty, ignore-it-and-it'll-go-away bandage, drained that fucker free of puss and wrapped it up neat and clean. All like it's something that Dave _deserves_. Like it's just- something that was to be _expected_.

Dave still can't seem to wrap his head around the idea. He's _so fucking lucky_. He's so goddamn lucky.

Shit, maybe he _should_ start going to church.

He grins up at Karkat, feeling the besotted, sappy smile on his face and finds himself not caring a single fucking bit about how stupid and lovestruck he must look.

Karkat leans in and kisses him before he can say another _I love you_ and Dave gives a happy little hum in response.

"Well." Dave says, once Karkat's pulled back and asked him. "Normally I would say lets not do anything at all and just stay here for the rest of the day, but I'm afraid I have a _date_." He says, grinning. "You see, my boyfriend is a very handsome man who is going to be expecting me later, and trust me, you do not want to get on his bad side for making me late."

“Is that so?” Karkat feels like he’s grinning like the Cheshire Cat right now. “Well, we wouldn’t want that.”

He keeps pressing butterfly kisses to Dave’s lips as he speaks, feeling blissed out and content, “Well then, how about this,” _kiss_ “as much as I would love to stay right here the rest of the night,” _kiss_ “how about we get up and head out,” _kiss_ “we make a stop by my dorm because my shower is way better than yours,” _kiss_ “We freshen up, and then we head over to Navy Pier and so you can enjoy your date.”

Karkat pulls away the sheets, planting one final kiss on Dave’s lips before he sits up and swings his legs off the bed and stands up, hunting around the room for his clothes. He manages to find his boxers and pants and pulls them on, then turns around and leans down to kiss Dave again because he literally. Can. Not. Stop.

Then Karkat picks his long sleeve shirt off the floor and throws it to Dave. He picks Dave’s shirt up and puts it on himself. It’s a little tight in the shoulders, but otherwise it’s fits fine.

“I’ll get you something warmer when we get back to my dorm,” Karkat promises, “but that should get you through the walk to my place.”

Dave laughs softly under the kisses, running his hands down Karkat's arms, just enjoying the physicality of the touch.

"That sounds like a plan to me, babe." Dave says, watching Karkat pull away. He feels so fucking... _physical_ right now. So grounded in his skin, finally anchored in his own body.

Dave stretches a little, every inch of himself sore and aching and tired- but watching Karkat get dressed makes a warm flutter spread through his belly, revitalizing him. The shirt hits him square in the chest and he blinks, catching.

Are they- are they _switching shirts_?

"Didn't realize you wanted me to wear your leatherman jacket." Dave teases, sitting up and pulling it on. He can't resist tugging the collar up and putting his nose to it, breathing deeply for a moment.

God. Karkat's scent. It's fucking _wrapping_ around him, enshrouding Dave in safety.

Then he lets it drop and slips off the bed, rising to his feet. He grabs Karkat by the front of his shirt (Dave's shirt!) and, not wearing pants, dick completely out, kisses Karkat again, slow and firm.

"Sounds like a plan." He murmurs against Karkat's mouth, then grinning and pulling away to find his pants.

Karkat smiles when he catches Dave putting his shirt up to his nose— _fuckthatiscute_ —as he collects his school bag off the floor. He’s making sure he’s got everything inside when Dave comes over and—literally wearing _nothing but Karkat’s shirt_ —pulls him by the front of (Dave’s!) shirt, and kisses him.

Then he’s pulling away with that sexy goddamn grin of his, as Karkat stands there in a daze for a moment, suddenly very distracted as he watches Dave bent down to swipe his pants off the floor.

If he wasn’t so excited about the concept of _going on a date with Dave_ right now, he’d be incredibly tempted to just say fuck it, they clearly both too stupidly horny for their own good and should just stay in, even if all they could do is make out, naked and lazy under the sheets.

Okay. He’s still _very_ tempted. But he decides to admire the view of Dave’s ass until it’s out of sight (but still looking equally as good in jeans) and then zip up his school bag.

They head out of the room together once Dave unplugs his phone and grabs whatever else he needs, and then they head out of Dave’s bedroom and toward the front door.

Sollux seems to have gone to his room, because the common area is empty, and Karkat can hear the faint sounds of Sollux’s video game from behind a closed door. The volume is probably higher than it ought to be, and Karkat is grateful for it.

They’re putting their shoes on by the front door. Dave put his flannel shirt on over top of Karkat’s shirt, and he’s wrapping his scarf around his neck as Karkat zips up his coat. Karkat grabs his knitted hat off of the harlequin doll, turns to Dave and shoves it onto his head. There. Hopefully he should be warm enough.

He’d offer Dave his coat too, but now with only Dave’s thin t-shirt on underneath, he’d be freezing his ass off on the trip back to his dorm building.

“Alright,” Karkat says, offering his hand to Dave, “let’s go.”


	7. Chapter 7

Dave gets dressed and slips on his shades, his heart pounding in excitement. Holy shit. Karkat's seen his dorm and now he gets to see _Karkat's_. It feels so fucking juvenile, like the first time that Dave got to see Karkat's room, but Dave can't stop _grinning_ like a fucking fool.

Dave doesn't need much- his wallet, keys, and phone and he's good to go, he doesn't really need his bag since he's not going to a class.

He accepts the hat shoved onto his head with a snort, taking Karkat's hand and giving it a tight squeeze. "Trying to make me look ridiculous?" He asks as they step out into the hall-

and right into his second roommate, John. John blinks at them for a moment, blue eyes wide behind his square frames.

"Oh, shit-" Dave almost lets go of Karkat's hand, but changes his mind at the last second and ends up squeezing it tighter instead. "Hey, um, John." He says with a grin. John tilts his head, squinting at Dave's neck, then glancing down to their clasped hands. "This is Karkat. My boyfriend. Karkat, John, my other roommate."

"Boyfriend, huh?" John asks, fake-suspicious, clearly trying not to grin. "Where's he been hiding you?" John can't keep it up and breaks into a grin, sticking his hand out to Karkat. "Nice to meet you!"

Karkat is usually pretty awkward in social situations, especially ones involving meeting new people. But Dave introduces him as his _boyfriend_ for the _very first time_ to anyone, _ever_ , and Karkat can’t keep the smile off his face.

He squeezes Dave’s hand back while taking John’s hand in the other, and—

“FUCK!” Karkat yells as he feels a fucking _jolt_ shoot up his arm, scaring the absolute shit out of him and making him leap backwards, letting go of both Dave and John’s hands.

Karkat is shaking out his wrist and John is giggling while he lifts up his hand, revealing a buzzer on his finger, his bright blue eyes twinkling with prankster’s delight behind his glasses.

“Haha, oh man, you totally fell for it!” John laughs. He looks at Dave and shoots him a wink.

Karkat’s eye twitches, holding his still tingling hand. “Dave, you have the absolute worst taste in roommates.”

John grins. “Well, lets hope his taste in boyfriends is better!” he chuckles.

Karkat narrows his eyes at John, and he feels like he wants to smack the guy, but... _fuck_ , he’s kind of charming, but Karkat will never admit that out loud.

So instead he snatches Dave by the arm and drags him down the hall, grumbling.

“It was great meeting you, Karkat! See ya later, Dave! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, you crazy kids!”

“Jesus Christ.” Karkat groans.

Dave snorts as Karkat drags him along.

"That's John for you!" He says. "I would've warned you, but the look on your face was _priceless_."

He hurries his steps to catch up with Karkat and walk next to him. Feeling a bit like a fool, he swings their hands together.

"John's kinda a dipstick, but he's a good guy." Dave says. "He's a fucking whiz at math, which, like, can you get any more stereotypical with the glasses and the teeth?" He laughs a bit, squeezing Karkat's hand.

"He's a good dude, though." Dave chatters cheerfully as they exit the building. "One time, he got stuck halfway down the laundry chute on a dare and it took us a whooooole lot of creative maneuvering to get him out of there."

Dave tells stories about his roommates and as Karkat listens, his grumpy spell is lifted (though it was pretty half-hearted to begin with). It’s nice to hear Dave talking like this again, rambling a mile a minute, one story weaving into the next, or sidestepping into a B-plot story before weaving back to the part he was talking about before getting sidetracked. Or he goes off into an analogy that...usually gets pretty convoluted, to the point Karkat has to scramble to keep up and remember what the hell they had even been talking about to begin with.

It’s classic Dave. He loves it.

“Okay, maybe I don’t have much of a place to knock your roommates, considering the one I have to deal with,” Karkat says, “I just have one other roommate, and thank god because dealing with that fucker is enough of a handful. He’s laid back enough, but he’s a fucking stoner and he’s always smoking weed indoors, and I tell him to at least open a _fucking_ window and he never does it. So I’m always coming back from work or class to the whole place smelling like a skunk came back from Woodstock. Plus he makes these gross fucking pies when he gets stoned and fills up the fucking fridge with them. Also I couldn’t tell you what he’s even in school for, his life is shrouded in mystery. Sometimes I wonder if he’s just a fucking fever dream I made up or some shit.”

By this point, they’ve reached Karkat’s dorm building and they head inside, and Karkat is hoping that Gamzee isn’t home so that Dave’s first impression of his dorm isn’t the fucking smell.

He’s relieved to find that the multiple air fresheners he has in every single room have done their job of masking the smell of Gamzee’s fucking ganja, and that Gamzee isn’t smoking a fucking bowl on the couch.

Karkat sees that Gamzee has left him a note on the whiteboard in the front hallway (which is mostly used by Karkat uses to leave Gamzee messages) written in his godawful handwriting, that he is out with Tavros.

_Hell yes._

Dave listens to Karkat talk about his roommate with an amused smirk. Karkat's always had this way of talking where he just goes off on a big fucking rant, rattling on in the _most_ amusing way.

Honestly, it used to be Dave's favorite pastime, provoking Karkat into ranting about some stupid ass thing just so Dave could lie back and listen to him rant for _hours_. Just sprawling out on Karkat's bed with Karkat bitching as they stare at the ceiling.

It warms his heart to see that part of Karkat hasn't changed.

"Sounds like a real fucking case." He says, before they step into Karkat's dorm. He glances around, curious about what kind of place Karkat lives in.

Karkat’s dorm room is, like most dorms, incredibly modest. There’s a small foyer with an equally small closet which Karkat hangs up his coat before the two of them walk into the rest of the dorm room.

Straight ahead from the foyer is the living room, with a couch and TV and a shelf Karkat brought from home that holds half his collection of movies and video games. Gamzee’s fucking bong is sitting on the coffee table in front of the couch, Karkat notices with a grimace, but otherwise the space is neat and tidy. There’s just a few traces of Gamzee’s presence in the room, like his unicycle that he keeps by the front door. Or his juggling clubs that he always just leaves where ever he used them last. Right now, they’re on the floor next to the couch, and Karkat kicks them underneath the couch as he walks past. Fucker can go hunting for them later, that’s what he gets for leaving his shit lying around. He takes the bong, opens Gamzee’s bedroom door a crack (which is all he dares to do, lest it let the stink out) and tosses it inside. He hears it crash into a pile of fucking horns. Jesus.

“I’d say it’s too bad you don’t get to meet my roommate when I’ve met both of yours, but it’s honestly for the fucking best.” Karkat sighs as he quickly closes Gamzee’s door, “Trust me, you’re not missing much.”

Most of main living area is scarcely decorated, considering Gamzee and Karkat’s vastly conflicting tastes, Karkat made sure that they kept their personal decor to their own bedrooms. Karkat’s room is at the end of a small hallway, which he leads Dave down after he gets rid of Gamzee’s bong.

Karkat’s mind is suddenly racing as he tries to remember in a sudden panic if there’s anything super embarrassing in his room right now, but instead of having Dave wait out in the hall while he checks, he opens the door and lets Dave go in first.

He follows close behind and starts scanning the room for dirty dishes or whatever, but thankfully it’s clean. The bed isn’t made, but who has fucking time for that? Dave’s bed wasn’t made either, so Karkat isn’t embarrassed over the fact he doesn’t tuck in his sheets—honestly it would probably be more embarrassing if he did.

Otherwise, he’s got a small desk with his laptop. Another shelf filled with the rest of his collection of movies, and the remaining shelves are dedicated to books (pretty much all romance books, but there’s some stuff for computer programming and whatnot, too).

He’s got a couple of movie posters on his walls, and some decorative criss-crossed sickles hanging above his bed (a going-away present from his dad). On his bedside table is a green octopus plushie (a birthday present from Jade) and beside it is a picture of him and Jade, taking a selfie together at The Bean.

Karkat puts his school bag down over by his desk, then turns to Dave. “I’m gonna grab a quick shower and get changed,” he says and then he smirks as he says, “go ahead and root through my closet, I have more sweaters than any one person can wear in a lifetime, so...take your pick. I’ve got an extra coat you can wear, too. It’ll be even colder down by the lake.”

Karkat walks over to Dave and pecks him quickly on the cheek. “I’ll be quick,” he promises, then he ducks out of the room and hurries off to take what will probably be the fastest fucking shower he’s ever had in his life.

Dave is completely unashamed about his checking out of Karkat's dorm. He grins a bit at the bong because, well, _nice_ , following Karkat to his bedroom. The crashing of the horns elicits a snicker from him.

"Pretty fucking eccentric, huh." Dave murmurs.

He steps into Karkat's dorm, immediately looking around the space with obvious curiosity. Movie posters- yup, that hasn't changed, and clearly neither has Karkat's taste. Dave always enjoyed poking fun at his love of romcoms, Karkat inevitably picking one for them to watch whenever he's go over to Karkat's house to hang out and, eventually, date.

Man when was the last time Dave even _watched_ a romcom? It's been.... hm. Well, actually, the last time he actually _watched_ a movie wasn't since he left. That's depressing, but Dave resolves to not let it bring him down. He's got all the time in the world to watch as many trashy romcoms as Karkat wants. He wont even make fun of him anymore!

Okay, that's a lie. Dave will _absolutely_ make fun of him for it.

Karkat just- _gives him permission to root through his stuff_ before kissing his cheek and hurrying out to take a shower. Dave is left dumbstruck as he leaves, raising his hand to his cheek where Karkat kissed it. He snaps back to attention quickly, turning to Karkat's closet.

Well. He thought about it earlier, didn't he? Now he gets to fulfill every single fantasy he's had about wearing Karkat's clothes. So he looks through the closet and eventually finds a nice, heavy wool sweater that looks... _relatively_ new.

He tugs it on and grins to himself. He gently closes the closet and immediately snoops.

Romance and computer programming books are to be expected, really, for Karkat, especially with the major he's going for. Dave keeps snooping, and finds the picture. He ends up staring at it for a long time, looking at how... _not miserable_ Karkat looked.

He's picking the picture up for a closer look when Karkat comes back and Dave jumps in surprise.

"Hey, baby." Dave says, setting the picture down and grinning sappily him. "How was the shower?"

Karkat thinks idly to himself _I wish I was this efficient about getting ready when I’m late for my 8am classes_ as he strips down while the shower heats up, jumps in, and all but _douses_ himself in shampoo and body wash, giving himself the fastest scrub down he can muster while still being thorough. He jerks open the curtain and snatches up his toothbrush and squirts some paste onto the bristles, then goes back under the spray to wash off the rest of the suds on his hair and body while he brushes his teeth, spitting the foam down the shower drain.

He twists the shower off, getting out and drying off in record time, then cinching the towel around his waist. Picking his clothes up off the floor, it looks like the steam from the shower helped work out some of the wrinkles in Dave’s shirt. He tucks the clothes under his arm and heads back to his room.

When he opens the door, Dave is over by his bedside table looking at the picture of him and Jade at The Bean. Dave has put on one of Karkat’s many sweaters, it’s actually pretty new but he’s already worn it a few times. It’s a deep burgundy, and the color looks _far_ better on Dave than it ever did on Karkat.

Karkat walks over to Dave, tossing the clothes onto his bed so he can put both hands on Dave’s hips and pull him in for another kiss. “Lonely,” Karkat says when he pulls away from the kiss, giving Dave a cheeky look, “but I would actually like to go on that date at some point today so we’ll just have to test the capacity of my shower another time.”

Karkat leans back to take in the sight of Dave in his sweater, because it’s probably the cutest fucking thing he’s ever seen. “That looks way better on you than it did on me,” Karkat says, “You can keep it.”

He pecks Dave’s cheek. “You gonna freshen up, too? I actually need to, uh, send an assignment to my professor since I didn’t show up to class today,” Karkat says sheepishly, “so I’ll just do that while I’m getting ready and then we can go once you’re done?”

Dave hums in enjoyment as Karkat pulls him in for a kiss, grinning at his suggestion of a future shower. He drapes his arms around Karkat's neck, enjoying being so close.

"Be careful what you tell me, babe, that sounds like an open invitation to come steal all your clothes since _obviously_ they'll _all_ look better on me." Dave points out with a grin.

"But yeah, I probably should sent Professor Maryam an email too." Dave muses as the two of them swaying ever so slightly. It's sickeningly sweet and Dave never ever wants to stop.

"Gotta tell her 'hey sorry about missing class I reconnected with my _incredible_ ," he kisses Karkat's cheek, "boyfriend so I just had to spend the whole day with him... _catching up_."

Obviously he's not going to tell her that that would be gross and weird and probably cross a couple of lines. But Dave does _like_ Professor Maryam so he's gonna at least reach out to her to explain why he missed class.

Karkat face burns when Dave calls him incredible, and he’s pretty sure his face is gonna be sore tomorrow with all the grinning he’s been doing today, his face muscles are probably fucking atrophied from how long he’s spent not smiling the last five years, and he’s been making up for it all in just the last couple of hours.

“Hah, yeah I wish,” Karkat snickers, “Hello, Professor Lalonde, sorry I didn’t show up to class to hand in my assignment this morning, I was busy having the most universe-shattering sex of my entire fucking life!”

Karkat pulls away from Dave so he can email his professor, and Karkat walks over to his dresser and starts rooting through it for fresh clothes. He pulls out some dark blue jeans—normally he goes for gray or black, this is the only pair of blue jeans he owns but he decides it’ll be nice to change things up for once, today has been a day of firsts, after all—and a fresh set of boxers and socks.

He throws those on the bed, and tosses the dirty stuff into a laundry hamper in the corner of his room, all except for Dave’s shirt. Next he goes to his closet and picks out a black dress shirt, which he bought for job interviews and dates, and he hasn’t had either of those in a long time so it’s just been hanging in his closet untouched.

He takes the towel off his waist and immediately throws it across the room at Dave with a mischievous smile (he’s supposed to be emailing his professor, and Karkat saw that side-eye). Then he gets dressed, putting Dave’s shirt on underneath his dress shirt, and once that’s done, he sits down at his desk and opens up his laptop, pulling up his email and starting to punch out a message to Professor Lalonde, knowing full well she’s going to see right through all the bullshit he’s making up.

Dave grins and plops down on Karkat's bed, pulling out his phone to start composing an email to to Professor Maryam, but he gets....

_distracted_

Okay, can you fucking blame him? Karkat is _right there_ and moving around and Dave is just watching the slope of his shoulders as Karkat digs through his dresser.

Mmmmm. Those shoulders can _work_.

He tries to refocus.

_Hey Prof, sorry I missed your class this morning,_

Shit, is Karkat gonna wear a _dress shirt_? Dave suddenly feels underdressed, but then he gets a towel to the face and he snickers, taking the hint and going back to his email.

_some weird personal shit came up and if you want I will absolutely give you the deets next week because it is a WILD story, but I promise it wasn't my intention to skip. If you could give me a quick outline on what we went over I'll do my best to catch up._

_You're the best, Prof, seeya next week (for real this time)_

_D Strider_

That email sent off with no proofreading because who the fuck do you think Dave is, Dave gets to his feet and stretches before wandering over and dropping a kiss on top of Karkat's head.

"I'm gonna go use your bathroom, be back in a min."

Not about to miss an opportunity for another Spider-Man kiss, now in the reverse, Karkat pauses his email-composing to lean his head back when he feels Dave kiss the top of his head, pulling him back down by (his!) sweater to kiss him.

“My shampoo is the red bottle, the body wash is the black one,” Karkat says when he pulls away, “don’t come out of there smelling like Gamzee or I’m cancelling our date.” But then he feels instantly bad about saying that because he would _never_ , not even as a joke, so instead he adds on, “Or at the very least shove you back in the shower fully clothed and hose you down.”

He’s still got Dave by the sweater, so he pulls him down again because he’s pretty sure he’s got an addiction for kissing Dave and he idly wonders if he should include that in his email to Professor Lalonde, because this is probably definition of obsession.

“You want anything before we go? I could make us something to drink before we head out, while you’re getting ready.” Karkat suggests.

Dave grins against Karkat's mouth as Karkat pulls him in for a kiss. His heart flutters every damn time and he just _knows_ that they are going to be _that_ couple. The disgusting ones who can't keep their hands off of each other in public.

"What a horrible crime that would be." Dave murmurs before Karkat kisses him again. "I think I'm okay, though." He tilts his head in for one last kiss before making himself pull away.

Okay, one more. _Just_ one. He kisses Karkat again and then pulls away for real. No, really. He has self control.

Okay, _maybe_ \- no. He needs to go shower.

His hand lingers for a moment on Karkat's shoulder before slipping away. "Be back in a couple." He says, and leaves to go use Karkat's shower and _holy fuck_ Karkat was _not_ lying about his shower being better, Dave's water pressure is downright _abysmal_ compared to Karkat's.

He must spend at least an entire two minutes just _standing_ under the water and luxuriating in the feeling of it before actually washing up, and the idea of getting to _smell_ like Karkat- god fucking shit it makes him want to giggle like a goddamn schoolgirl as he scrubs the shampoo into his hair.

He gets through the shower without any giggling, thankfully, but there is a minute where he just has to hug himself tightly and breathe as his heart pounds so goddamn hard it feels like it'll burst in his chest from being so _fucking lucky_.

He finishes up, though, and dries off, toweling his hair off and squinting at himself in the mirror, wiping the steam off of it.

Huh. For once... he doesn't actually hate what he sees. Standing there, hair messy from the shower, flushed with the heat, he doesn't... see Bro. He tilts his head this way and that and- he just sees... _himself_.

Weird. Dave raises a hand and traces his fingers over his cheekbones before forcing his expression into neutral-

erugh, yup, _there_ it is. Dave turns away, feeling a bit sick. Good job, Strider, you were doing just fine but then had to _fuck it up._

He shakes his head and finishes drying off to the point where he can actually pull his clothes on instead of having them cling weirdly and uncomfortable as he tries to pull them on.

Finally, he saunters out of the bathroom, shades firmly in place, to find what Karkat is up to while he was waiting.

Karkat chuckles softly as Dave goes in for _two_ more kisses before he finally pulls away with apparent effort, his hand lingering on Karkat’s shoulder, and Karkat’s heart squeezes with affection at the thought. He’s also pleased to know that if he does have to go to fucking counseling about this kissing addiction he has, at least Dave would be sitting right there beside him on the couch.

And then they’d probably wind up in one of the other’s laps and start making out, and get banned from therapy forever.

Karkat shakes his head at thought, scoffing at his vivid imagination, before going back to his email. Once he attaches his assignment as a file and hits send, he sits back in his chair. He can still hear the shower running, and his lips pull into a smirk. _Told you my shower is superior._

Karkat is suddenly restless with nothing to occupy himself with now that the email is sent, Dave’s still showering, and didn’t want anything to drink. Does Karkat want something to drink? He’d feel bad making himself something and not anything for Dave. Besides, he doesn’t want to stand there waiting for water to boil and a teabag to steep, that’s not going to do anything to help his nerves. Karkat drums his fingers on his desk, thinking.

He considers burning off this restless energy with some push-ups or something, but he’s already showered and dressed, so that’s out. Karkat blows a puff of air out as he pushes himself away from his desk and spins in his chair. He sighs, long and loud, as a thought comes to mind. It’s pretty embarrassing and dumb, but it’s the one thing that can calm him down that isn’t going to make him sweat through his dress shirt, so he supposes it’s all he’s got.

Still spinning around idly in his chair, he leans his head back on the headrest, and closes his eyes. He opens his mouth and, soft at first but building volume as he warms up, starts to sing.

As Dave comes back he hears- holy fuck, is that _singing_?

He stops just outside of Karkat's door, tilting his head as he listens, folding his arms and leaning against the wall. A slow smile spreads across his face, wistful and soft as he listens.

Karkat's a... really good singer. His voice is soft and _warm_ , all his edges smoothing out in the face of notes being put together. Dave gets, now, why Jade would put their music up- Karkat's voice is comforting and expressive and Dave needs to go hunt down all the music _right now_.

He pulls out his phone and opens a new tab, typing in some of the lyrics that Karkat's and hitting search, leaving the tab for later.

He nudges the door open again and steps inside, leaning against the doorframe. "Jade was right, you _do_ sing well." Dave says, giving Karkat a fond, lopsided smile.

Karkat jolts in his chair at the sound of Dave’s voice, his note cutting off abruptly. He stops spinning in his chair and whirls around to face Dave, feeling his face starting to burn dark red.

Dave is leaning against the door smiling at him. Shit, how long had he been standing there, listening??

Singing is such a meditative thing for Karkat that whenever he gets into it, it pushes everything else out. He’d gotten so caught up in it, he hadn’t even heard the shower turn off. Otherwise he would have instantly stopped.

“I—I didn’t—know you were—“ Karkat stammers, and _god_ he wants to disappear.

He hates singing in front of people. The only person he would ever do it around was Jade when they were making music, and that’s only when she gave him her best puppy dog eyes. Most of the time he recorded shit by himself and sent her the files before he lost his nerve.

And for _Dave_ to hear, of all people—

Dave’s still smiling at him, all crooked and sweet, and Karkat looks away, his heart in his stomach, slowly being eaten by acid.

“I didn’t hear you come in,” Karkat mumbles, staring off at nothing.

Karkat- aw, is Karkat being _shy_? Wait, no- that's a pretty big reaction for just being shy. He looks like he just got shouted at for getting his hand caught in the cookie jar, only if the cookie jar was like, pentagon secrets and now he's facing execution.

Dave straightens up, blinking in surprise.

"Aw, it's okay, babe." He says, crossing the room to hug Karkat from behind. "I didn't mean to startle you- you sound really nice." He drops a little kiss on the top of Karkat's head. "'S not anything to be ashamed of."

Karkat’s glad Dave is behind him right now so he can’t see the look of guilt on his face.

He’s being so sweet about it, but...

God, if it had been any other song—actually, the song he was singing wasn’t exactly a happy song, either. Most of his songs were pretty fucking melancholy and angsty, so there wasn’t exactly a safe song...maybe Dave wasn’t paying attention to the lyrics, just focusing on the melody?

“Thanks, I—that’s—“ Karkat swallows, “it’s not that I’m ashamed, it’s—well, I am, I guess. But...I’m ashamed _because_ it’s you.”

That probably made zero fucking sense. Karkat closes his eyes, breathing in deep through his nose, his jaw set and lips firm.

He never should have written a single one of those stupid fucking songs.

“You’re the last person who should hear them,” Karkat murmurs softly.

Dave has no idea what that means.

"I have no idea what that means." He declares, in that 'bluntly charming' way of his. That's totally a thing he does. "Does it really matter, though?" He kisses the top of Karkat's head again, rocking on his heels to wiggle them back and forth a bit.

"Still sounded pretty. Doesn't matter _what_ you were singing. I like your voice."

And, because he's a little shit, he gradually makes the turning of the chair juuuuust a little more with each shift. Making the turning radius just that tiny bit wider.

Karkat squeezes his eyes shut tighter. Dave kisses the top of his head again but for the first time all day it isn’t making Karkat feel better, just more guilty.

Dave is slowly rocking the chair back and forth, low-key trying to get Karkat to turn around, no doubt. Karkat jumps out of the chair, keeping his back to Dave.

“But it _does_ —“ Karkat can feel a shout crawling up his throat and he tackles it down. He clenches his fists for a moment, then relaxes them before continuing. “It does matter.”

Karkat holds his arms, hunching in slightly on himself. He feels like fucking garbage.

“Dave, every song was about you,” Karkat says, and as soon as the words leave his mouth his stomach twists. “And—and you shouldn’t—I don’t even—fuck, I mean...after everything that happened to you in California, I don’t...”

He squeezes his arms, his shoulders almost up to his ears as he tries to make himself shrink into nothing.

“All that shit I went through was just stupid pissbaby bullshit,” Karkat is talking so quiet he’s not even sure if Dave can hear him. Maybe he doesn’t want him to. “And I don’t want you to listen to all the shit I was thinking back then when you...when you had it _so much fucking worse_ than I did. And instead of doing anything about it, I bitched about it in a bunch of crybaby songs like a fucking tool.”

Dave jolts a bit as Karkat jumps up. Ooooohkay, time to stop joking around, Strider, since this is clearly something actually... touching a nerve here.

 _Every song was about_ **_Dave_ ** _?_

He waits patiently as Karkat unleashes practically a torrent of self-loathing, shoving his hands in his pockets, rocking on his heels as he listens.

"Nah." He decides, stepping forwards and hugging Karkat again, slouching slightly to drop his chin onto Karkat's shoulders. "That sounds a lot to me like 'I'm shaming myself for something that is completely fucking rational' talk."

He gives Karkat a little squeeze around the waist. "I don't care." He murmurs. "Whatever you were feeling- I bet it felt like shit. Just cause I was also..." he hedges for a moment, "...in a bad place, doesn't really change that I did something _really_ shitty to you, too."

Karkat slumps as Dave hugs him from behind, deflating slowly as Dave squeezes him tight, and he can feel himself deflating like a balloon from Dave’s touch.

Karkat knows he holds the gold medal for Best At Self Sabotage. Maybe he’s overreacting here, but...he sighs.

“But now that I know why you _had_ to dump me, I just feel guilty,” Karkat mutters, “And—and I know that I couldn’t have known back then...and that I can’t go back and change how it all made me feel, but...fuck, I don’t know.”

He twists himself around in Dave’s arms, and rests his cheek on Dave’s shoulder as he wraps his arms around him, hugging him back.

“I guess I just feel like if you heard any of them, it’d be like I was throwing it in your face.” Karkat mumbles, “I’ll just—I’ll write less angsty shit and you can listen to that instead. You don’t need to hear all that other crap. It’s like—it’s like the fucking hell diary of my teenage angst and it’s just—it’s stupid. I’ll write something better. I can...I can do that now.”

Dave hugs Karkat tighter as he turns around. "Hmm. Double nah." He decides. "I don't really _care_ what you write about. You could write a song that's just you screaming my name followed by every swear word and insult under the sun and I'm pretty sure it'd still be a fucking bop."

He rubs Karkat's back a little and knows that he _needs_ to seek out that music and listen to it. If it'll help him know more about what Karkat... about what _Dave_ did to Karkat, then he needs to listen to it.

Okay, and maybe a part of him wants to punish himself by listening to the music. Karkat _clearly_ used it as an outlet, which means it's probably full of pain. Pain that he wants to feel- _deserves_ to feel.

Dave kisses Karkat's cheek.

"Don't beat yourself up, Karkat." He says. "You can write happy stuff if you want to, but like. Don't try to shove yourself into a triangle hole unless you're shaped like a triangle. Or something."

A snorting laugh bursts out of Karkat at Dave’s whole...triangle thing, and suddenly he feels better.

Dave was really trying his best to make him feel better, and the fact that he was honestly pretty shit at it sometimes just made it more endearing.

But he _does_ feel happy. Of course he does. So why wouldn’t he write happy songs, or...be a triangle.

He wants to ask Dave to promise not to listen to the songs. But he feels like it’d be a promise Dave couldn’t keep. Or that it wasn’t fair of Karkat to ask it of him.

Dave showed Karkat his dirty laundry, after all. In a way, these songs were Karkat’s. Fuck, so many of them were riddled with suicidal idealization that his entire discography could be interpreted as a suicide note. Karkat could cut open his stomach and spill his guts onto the floor in front of Dave right now, or he could show him the songs. Either way, it was Karkat at his most raw, open and vulnerable.

He pulls away from Dave, keeping his chin tucked down for a moment, steeling himself. Gathering up his nerve.

He can’t let Dave listen to these for the first time by himself.

He still can’t look at Dave as he asks, “Do you...want me to show you them?”

Dave grins at Karkat's snort. Mission accomplished. He might be shit at cheering up his boyfriend (!!) but he still gets the job done.

He's... surprised at Karkat's question. He would've thought that after all that Karkat would have asked him to not listen to them, but... that's his boyfriend (!!). Always full of surprises.

"I... yeah. Sure, if you don't think it'll be too like..." Dave sucks his teeth, trying to pick a word. "...uncomfortable? I guess, for you? Lord knows I'd _hate_ to read my own angsty ass diary entries from for years ago- and yes, before you ask, I did have a diary, it was pink and said _princess_ across the front with a fuzzy pen."

Dave's lying, of course, just making shit up to try and make Karkat laugh more. It's not escaping his attention how nervous Karkat looks about the idea.

Karkat rolls his eyes and shoves Dave on the shoulder, but his lips are trying very hard not to crack into a smile and are doing a very poor job.

“You _would_ ,” he says with a light scoff. Then he exhales softly. “But...yeah. I think it...I think it’s only fair if I did, you know?”

Karkat walks over to his desk and opens up Spotify on his computer. He goes to Jade’s account page, and brings up the playlist. Which one should he show Dave? Should he just...hit shuffle? Karkat scrolls up and down the list a few times, the titles sparking the memory of the melody and the lyrics in his mind. He realizes after a moment that he’s been scrolling around the screen, his brow deeply furrowed and his other hand over his mouth, deep in thought, for a while now.

Ah, fuck it.

Karkat clicks the green shuffle button at the top of the playlist, and while the first few seconds are playing, Karkat goes over and sits on the bed and gestures for Dave to join him.

Karkat hears his own voice come out of the computer’s speakers and _fuck_ , that never stopped being the weirdest and worst thing ever. He recognizes the song right away, of course. Looks like the universe wasn’t gonna be pulling any punches today. Or, to quote the fucking song itself, the universe was going on attack.

Dave waits patiently as Karkat queues up a track, following him to the bed and sitting down next to him.

After a moment, he nudges his shades up to rest on top of his head, taking Karkat's hand and giving it a gentle squeeze as the first line plays.

Yeah, okay, nevermind. A couple lines in and he lets go to wrap his arm around Karkat's shoulders, hugging him instead and taking Karkat's hand again with his other other one.

Yeah, Dave might not be the best at literary analysis, but even _he_ can hear it plain as day.

_I'd make New Year's resolutions_

_But I didn't really plan on waking up_

_Oh, I'm getting sick and tired of fucking up_

_Yes, I tried the blue pill_

_Clearly didn't try enough_

Yeah. Dave closes his eyes as his heart squeezes tight. Just more proof of how badly he fucked Karkat up. It hits him hard, and he's pretty sure if Karkat wasn't right next to him right now, he'd be crying and hating himself even harder.

But Karkat's sitting here and Dave doesn't want to make him feel like shit for sharing this with Dave. So all Dave does is squeeze Karkat's hand gently and tilt his head to rest against Karkat's.

All Karkat can do is just sit there in silence while the song plays. Dave squeezes his hand at first, then by the end of the song Dave has his hand in a vice grip with his other arm wrapped around Karkat, his head leaning on his shoulder.

The shuffled playlist keeps going, and Karkat sighs, bumping his cheek against Dave’s head.

Karkat always tried to keep his songs rather ambiguous, while still allowing him to let out his emotions. He left the word _“you”_ out of his songs as much as he could. This song was an exception to the rule. Every song was about Dave in some fashion, considering the reason he felt the way he did in those songs was because of his broken heart...

But this song was directed right at Dave. Of _course_ this one had to play.

Karkat turns to press a kiss into Dave’s hair, keeping his face there while the song plays through, closing his eyes and feeling his chest get lighter at the smell of his shampoo in Dave’s still-drying hair.

_I’d fly across the world for you,_

_whatever place it lead me to, for you_

_they took your hand without a doubt,_

_and maybe it hurt to see you out_

_but all I wanted was for you to stay,_

_that I could be enough for you to stay_

Dave slowly rubs his thumb back and forth over Karkat's hand. God. It couldn't hurt more, could it? Hearing Karkat's quiet, heart-shattering grief and mourning and _longing_.

It kills him, this raw display. The music is good, Karkat's voice is _beautiful_ \- but the lyrics are little nails, driving into his heart.

Dave knows that he's going to go home and listen to all of the music over and over, until he knows every song by heart. Until he can identify each song by the opening chords. Until he can take all that pain into himself and _feel_ it, somehow leech it from Karkat and into himself.

"You are." He says softly. "You are enough, Karkat." He slowly brings their hands up to kiss the back of Karkat's hand, mouth lingering there as he tries to find the words.

"I'm not leaving you again." He murmurs. "Not ever again." He gives Karkat a soft, small, sad little smile. "I promise." Squeezing their hands together gently, shifting so he can tuck his thumb into Karkat's palm and rub small little circles into it.

Karkat opens his eyes as Dave kisses the back of his hand, and his vision is blurry with tears. He manages a little smile that he’s sure mirrors Dave’s own when he looks at him.

He brings up his free hand and cups the side of Dave’s face, rubbing his thumb along Dave’s cheekbone, then leans in and kisses him, slow and soft, as the song fades out and into the next.

And it’s just Karkat speaking irritably, with some rustling in the background, like the sound of keys dropping on a counter, and things being tossed around.

_”Also this, and take this, I don’t need it—have it.”_

Then it cuts into music, bouncing piano and soft strings. Dave pulls away to look at Karkat curiously, and Karkat—

Karkat starts laughing.

“God, fuck, I—I forgot she put those in,” he said, shaking his head. “She knew getting me to sing in person was like pulling teeth, so sometimes she’d just—leave her fucking phone lying around with it recording our conversations and whatever. And then she’d just splice little bits of stuff we said and put them into songs.”

It was a short song, just a quick instrumental that was meant to be an interlude of sorts, so it goes into the next song quickly.

It starts with gentle acoustic, and of course Karkat knows it right away. His mirth softens, but this time he doesn’t feel the same guilt as before. Now that they’re a few songs in, and that last one broke some of the tension, he’s feeling a little bit better.

It’s still weird as hell to listen to his own recorded voice, but it’s also nice, watching Dave listen. Karkat can tell he’s hanging onto every word, and as they sit on the bed together, face to face, the music filling the space around them...

It somehow feels more intimate than any of the physical stuff they’ve done all day.

“I like the ones where it’s just Jade on acoustic and me singing,” Karkat admits, and he’s never even told Jade that. He should.

_The pen is sharper than the words it writes,_

_And the scars they leave fade in half as much time_

The words settle deep into Karkat’s bones, drawing goosebumps to his skin. Maybe it’s stupid to get goosebumps from his own fucking song, but those words in particular hang in the air, the context of the moment making them enunciated and even more profound than when Karkat first wrote them down.

_I’m pulling out of the dive I took,_

_I’m unfamiliar, so tell me where to look_

_I’m hanging off the wall on the weakest hook_

_Until someone dares to tell me I’ve done good_

Karkat leans forward and kisses Dave again, pushing him gently on the shoulder to guide him down onto his back.

_I’ll come back to life when the sun kicks in,_

_And I’ll wipe my eyes where the dark has been_

_And I’ll throw off the aches and pains that kept me pinned_

_So let’s start over,_

_until I’m back to fine again._

Dave tenses a little under the touch over his cheek, but relaxes into it as Karkat leans in and kisses him.

God. Dave loves Karkat so much. He loves this boy with all of his broken, pathetic heart- so much so that it doesn't feel quite as broken anymore.

When the music changes, Dave pauses because, wait, huh? But then Karkat laughs and explains and Dave snorts and it switches to the next track, Dave gently pressing his forehead to Karkat's as they listen, still rubbing his thumb over his palm.

His heart _hurts_. But- it's the good kind of hurt. It's the kind of hurt that leaves him breathless and humbled and _yearning_.

It's the kind of yearning that gets shown on the movie screen. The kind of yearning that makes people cross oceans, go on suicide missions, throw each other out of the fire in the hope that maybe, just maybe, they'll be alright. The kind of yearning that begs to be screamed about into the silence of a empty street, glass breaking and screaming on your knees, jeans ripped and knees bloody. The kind of yearning that craves being palm-to-palm in holy worship of soft whispers and gentle touch, window open with curtains fluttering in the breeze.

It's the kind of yearning of the ideal of rain on windows, romantic and mournful. The yearning of lighting fires to watch things _burn_. The soul of every screamed punk song, of every song that sings about being stuck in this damn town, of every paperback novel about growing up and coming of age.

Of every trembling, acoustic song being written for the first time, of every fledgling bird's first hops. Sending a letter to a lost love with nothing but a prayer on the lips and a hope. The yearning that digs deep into the the earth and plants itself and in the face of hurt and evil and danger looks it all in the eye and says _'no._ ** _you_** _move.'_

The yearning of a simple, aching heart, desperate to be loved.

So when Karkat gently pushes Dave down to the bed, Dave goes without any resistance, his hands coming up to settle on Karkat's waist.

He could make a joke, ask if they're going for a _fifth_ time, but- his heart is so goddamn fucking full and _aching_ that he just smiles softly up at Karkat, unable to bring himself to say anything, to break the soft, tender atmosphere that's gathering around them like a down blanket, warm and heavy and _safe_.

Karkat makes a valiant attempt at trying to keep his lips on Dave while one hand searches blindly for his phone on the bedside table, but when he can’t find it he cracks open one eye, still pecking kisses to the corner of Dave’s mouth as he finally pulls it off the table.

He opens the Spotify app on his phone and pauses the music from it, and across the room his computer goes silent. He tosses his phone back onto the table, and looks down at Dave.

Without the music filling the space, it’s just the two of them here. Karkat can hear the soft breath coming out of Dave’s mouth, see the flush on his cheeks and the soft look in his eyes as he looks up at Karkat with an expression that holds so much Karkat can’t even fathom what to call it.

Dave’s sunglasses, which he’d pulled up to rest on top of his head, are sliding back into his hair and the pillows, so Karkat gently removes them, careful not to let them catch in Dave’s hair. He folds them and sets them carefully off to the side, with much more grace than he’d just given his phone.

Karkat looks back down at Dave and smiles.

“You look like you’re a million miles away right now,” he murmurs, brushing Dave’s bangs off his forehead. “Are you okay, D?”

Karkat pauses the music and then it's just the two of them, breathing softly and looking at each other.

"Yeah." Dave says after a moment, his heart _aching_ in his chest. His hands squeeze on Karkat's sides, just a reassuring touch.

God. _God_. Dave wants to roll them and lie on top of Karkat and never move, wants to wrap himself around Karkat and squeeze until they're one person, until Dave _can't_ let him go. He wants to be touching Karkat's skin, now and forever, just tiny little things- the inside of his wrist, a hand on his lower back- he wants that contact permanently.

"I'm alright." Dave murmurs. "Just..." He shakes his head a little, not really finding words. "I love you so much, Karkat." He says softly. "And I'm here, and you're here, and I know- it's going to be okay."

Karkat bumps their foreheads together, laughing softly despite the tears welling up in his eyes now.

Karkat keeps laughing, soft and breathless as though in a whisper, as he leans down to kiss Dave again.

As Karkat suspected, when he’d shut the music off and they locked eyes, they were on the same wavelength right now. Practically one mind and body, each with the exact same thoughts. He keeps kissing Dave, gentle and warm presses, the only sound in the room the shuffling of their bodies on the sheets, their warm breath, the soft sound of their lips moving in tandem.

Then Karkat rolls, moving Dave with him, until he’s on his back with Dave over top of him, never breaking their kiss. He holds both sides of Dave’s face and gives a pleased hum at the way Dave holds his hips. Finally he pulls away, practically beaming up at Dave.

“I love you, too,” he says, and he’ll say it again and again and again, as many times as Dave will let him, because it’ll never be enough. “And you’re right. That time we spent apart, those five years...they aren’t going to mean a thing. Because I plan to make up for them by being with you for the rest of my life.”

Karkat hears the weight of his words once they leave his mouth, they hang in the air with the same profoundness as his lyrics, or the understanding silence that followed when the music stopped. His eyes widen a little, and his face gets a bit warm when he realizes just how much of a promise that was. Not that he’s worried he could keep it, but...

“If you’ll have me, that is.” He adds on quietly.

Dave hums softly as Karkat kisses him, smiling up at Karkat fondly, just trading gentle presses of their mouths. It's like Karkat is just... an extension of him. Of his heart. Dave can feel it beating in his chest, and- if he imagines it- can feel Karkat's beating right in time with his.

Then Karkat rolls them and Dave blinks as he's suddenly on top, but honestly- he doesn't have any problem with this, still making a soft, pleased noise.

Wait.

 _Holy shit._ Did Karkat just propose?

Dave's brain shorts out for a moment or two, as the weight of Karkat's words hit him.

 _The rest of his life._ The rest of _their_ lives. Dave's hit with the realization that- he could wake up _every morning_ to Karkat. He could kiss his neck and curl around him forever. Karkat said the _rest of his life._

Dave feels his eyes get wet.

"To have and to hold." He says softly and holy shit can this moment get any sappier? He leans in and kisses Karkat softly.

Holy shit. Holy shit holy shit holy **fucking** shit—

Is Dave _proposing_ right now?

Wait.

Did _Karkat_ just propose without even realizing that’s what he was suggesting? How the hell else was Dave supposed to interpret the words _the rest of my life_? That’s kind of what people say when they fucking propose, Vantas!

Dave is kissing him so sweet and gentle, and Karkat is grateful to be using his mouth for something other than talking right now because he’s stunned. So he just lets himself enjoy Dave’s weight against him, the softness of his mouth, his warm breath.

This morning, Dave Strider was Karkat’s ex-boyfriend, the guy who broke his heart into a million pieces to save his life.

This afternoon, Dave was his boyfriend, together again after five long years apart, and they’d both never stopped loving each other, never stopped thinking about the other.

So were they really ever _truly_ broken up? Maybe in practice, but not in principle. Not in the way it would count. And if that was the case, that would mean they’d been together since they were seventeen. High school sweethearts, though they’d both admitted to having pining crushes long before that. That’d mean, technically, they’ve been together for _seven_ years, and been _in love_ for even longer.

So it definitely wasn’t moving too fast, to propose, right? Nothing weird at all about it, even if they were doing everything about this reunion completely out of order. Sex before communication, proposal before the first date back together as a couple.

Karkat _grins_ between their mouths. It’s so stupid, it’s so _them_. It’s fucking perfect.

Karkat breaks away from the kiss, and now his eyes are shining too. “In sickness and—blah, blah, blah, blah, blah—so that’s a yes, right? It’s a yes? I just got used to you calling me your boyfriend but I think I can get _pretty_ used to fiancé, too.”

Dave smiles sappily against Karkat's mouth as they kiss. Fuck, maybe they're moving to fast but- why does anyone else's opinion on their relationship _matter_?

Dave's loved Karkat for... as long as he can remember, really. For as long as it's _mattered_. Just because they were apart for five years didn't change anything for him- and it clearly didn't for _Karkat_ , either.

Oh, there'll be bumps, he has no doubt, but- Dave wants it. Wants all the rough edges and papercuts and bruised knees that Karkat will doubtlessly give him because he spent five whole years without it and every moment was agony.

When Karkat pulls away to ask, Dave laughs helplessly, grinning down at him.

"I'm pretty fucking sure that's a yes, Karkat, unless I've been speaking in tongues and not known it."

Fiancee. _Fiancee_. Oh my god. Dave is going to have a heart attack from how hard his heart is beating. It's going to explode in his chest and he really really can't have that because then he won't get to _marry Karkat._

Oh my god.

Holy shit, Dave said yes.

This isn’t exactly how Karkat imagined this would go—and he’d spent plenty of time over the two years they’d been together daydreaming about it like every lovesick teen does—but now that it’s happening, he can’t imagine it any other way.

Karkat loves romance, and that means he loves all the clichés, all the tropes. He’s old-fashioned. But all of this breaks every rule, is so unorthodox to what he sees in movies or reads in books, and yet it isn’t disappointing.

That doesn’t mean he isn’t about to make a big fucking production out of it. Even though Dave already said yes.

“Wait here,” Karkat says, and his face is still split into a wide grin as he taps Dave on the shoulder to let him up.

Dave sits up and Karkat jumps out of the bed, snatching up his phone as he goes, and over to the door.

“Be right back, I just have to do one quick thing,” Karkat promises as he opens the door and slips out of sight.

He shuts the door behind him and brings up a tab on his phone, doing some quick Googling for a phone number as he walks down the short hallway and into the kitchen as he calls the number, making sure he’s well out of earshot so Dave can’t eavesdrop.

Because his _fiancé_ is a little shit like that.

Karkat can’t keep the smile out of his voice when someone picks up and he starts to speak.

Dave sits up as Karkat nudges at him, watching Karkat go. He feels like his face is stuck permanently in a lovestruck grin, because that seems to be all he can do.

"Alright, babe." He says, as Karkat slips out the door. For a moment, he has the wild desire to follow him and snoop- but instead he lies back down on the bed and drapes his arms over his face, grinning helplessly into them as he feels his face heat up.

God. What a fucking sequence of events. What a fucking _day_. His gut is squirming, churning with a combination of excitement, adoration, and terror.

Married. _Married_. The word fills his mouth like honey and he can't bring himself to say it, let it spill free, trembling a little. Maybe this is too quick, too hasty, but- five years. _Five years_ of desperately loving Karkat, or rather, the _memory_ of Karkat-

and now they've reconnected and it's so much better than anything that Dave had _dared_ to dream of.

God. _God_. Dave swallows thickly, pulling his arms away and tucking them behind his head again, just looking up at the ceiling and trying to wrestle his feelings under control.

They're engaged. That doesn't mean they need to get married anytime soon- in fact, it would probably be smarter _not_ to- but.

Dave feels himself smiling helplessly again and can't bring himself to stop.

Karkat comes back into the room to find Dave sprawled out, his arms tucked behind his head, looking up at the ceiling with a big, goofy smile, and Karkat hasn’t stopped smiling but somehow grins even bigger at the sight.

He crosses the room, quickly climbing onto the bed and straddling Dave’s hips. Dave automatically moves his arms and puts them on Karkat’s thighs. Karkat places his hands over Dave’s and gives them a squeeze, then moves his hands underneath to interlock their fingers. Then he brings one of Dave’s hands up to his mouth and kisses each one of his knuckles.

“Hi, handsome,” Karkat says softly, “We still on for date night?”

Karkat comes back in and clambers right onto Dave's thighs. Dave settles his hands onto Karkat's legs, flushing a little as Karkat takes his hands and kisses over them.

"Well, considering we fucked so much that my dick can _literally_ not get it up right now for a round of celebration, I'd say I'm still pretty fucking down for date night." Dave says, watching Karkat with a tender, fond expression.

Karkat smirks down at Dave, squeezing Dave’s fingers as he leans forward, bringing up their intertwined hands and pressing down until they’re pinned into the pillows on either side of Dave’s head.

Karkat leans right down until his lips are barely ghosting over Dave’s own, close enough that Dave’s breath fans across his face. He kisses the corner of Dave’s mouth, a teasing kiss that’s close but just not close enough. He slowly brushes his lips across Dave’s cheek, until he reaches his ear.

“And how do you think you’ll feel _after_ our date?” Karkat asks in a husky, low voice, “because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you filling me up since I first laid eyes on you this morning.”

To emphasize his point, Karkat rolls his hips against Dave’s as he kisses— _agonizingly slow_ — along Dave’s jaw, and back to his mouth.

But instead of kissing Dave, he pulls back (and this is _killing_ Karkat to do so he hopes it’s doing _something_ for Dave) far enough that there’s no way Dave can lurch up to steal a kiss (not with how Karkat has him pinned right now) and gives Dave what he hopes are his best set of Bedroom Eyes.

“Think you’ll be able to _celebrate_ with me then?”


	8. Chapter 8

Dave's eyes go wide as Karkat pins him to the bed, swallowing. This is so fucking unfair. Karkat is leaning in and his gaze is heavy and _wanting_ and it's sending sparks down Dave's spine, his breath turning shaky as Karkat kisses the corner of his mouth- that teasing _bastard_ -

and then his _voice_ , low and husky in Dave's _ear_ and he's shivering all over, eyes fluttering shut, and Karkat's being so fucking unfair, kissing so slow and-

"O- _oo-h-_ " Dave makes a terrible, helpless noise as Karkat rolls his hips, a heavy, deep thrill running all the way through him, head to toe. His hands slowly shift under Karkat's hold, arching up against him. He wants to touch, this is so fucking unfair.

" _Karkat_ -" Dave whines softly. " _Ba-byyyy_ you're gonna kill me like this..."

Karkat nearly gives in when his teases bring the _sexiest, neediest_ sounds out of Dave.

It takes every shred of willpower Karkat has, but he resists the temptation to swoop down and crush his lips to Dave’s and end his poor fiancé’s suffering.

Whew. _Fiancé_. Karkat wasn’t gonna get tired of that.

“Ohh? Really, baby?” Karkat asks innocently, “And here I thought you said you were out of commission...”

Karkat rocks his hips forward again in a deep, slow grind. “So you’re saying you can feel this?”

Neither of them are even remotely hard, but it still feels _fantastic_ , and while Karkat’s cock doesn’t react in the slightest, he still moans deep in his throat, even if it’s just to see the look it puts on Dave’s face. And maybe get a reaction from his cock too, but he won’t complain if Dave’s own body teases him just as much as Karkat is.

It’ll just make Dave all the needier later, when his body finally does let him react the way he wants.

“So, is that another _yes_ , Mr. Strider?”

Dave squirms a little more, testing Karkat's hold on him, heels sliding a bit on Karkat's bed.

Karkat sounds _so_ fucking innocent, but the _twist_ of his hips is _sinful_ and delicious and it reaches into Dave's chest and _yanks_ another deep, desperate noise from him, raw and helpless.

"Aah- _haa-aaaahnnnnnnuh-_ " Dave's head falls back, eyes fluttering.

God. _God_. God Karkat is going to _kill_ him if this keeps up.

"Y-Yes, damn you- Karkat- _yes_ -" He whines.

“Great!” Karkat chirps, grinning.

He lets go of Dave’s hands and, before Dave can get any funny ideas, Karkat jumps to his feet and stands on the bed before vaulting off, and he’s to his bedroom door in a flash.

He looks back over his shoulder at Dave, who’s still on the bed, and the look in Dave’s eyes says it all.

The game is fucking _on_.

“Well, let’s get going,” Karkat says with a smirk, “Sooner we leave, the sooner we can come back.”

Then Karkat opens his door and is out into the hallway, and he’s starting to feel a bit like a mouse that just got spotted by the neighbourhood tom.

Dave is panting and arching a bit and then-

then holy shit, Karkat's just- gone. Off the bed and at the door and Dave's head is left _spinning_ at the sudden shift, arousal pumping in his veins, quick and heady and Karkat's smirk says it all.

"You cheater." Dave growls, staggering to his feet. He swipes his phone, checks his pockets, and follows after, almost a run as he tries to catch up.

Karkat is already at the door putting on his coat when Dave comes out of his room, hot on his heels, shoving his phone in his pocket while simultaneously shoving his shades onto his face—which is still bright fucking red, Karkat notes with glee.

As Dave is putting on his shoes, Karkat opens up the closet beside him and grabs his black zip-up jacket, and hands it to Dave. The gloves Karkat forgot to wear himself that morning are on a small table by the front door, and Karkat picks them up and keeps one for himself and hands the other to Dave.

He totally has another pair of gloves in the closet. But this is a much cuter alternative.

Karkat does pick out a different hat to wear, the pom-pom hat wasn’t exactly first-date attire. He gets a dark red hat for Dave, and a light gray one for himself. Once they’re all bundled up and ready to face the chill of a late October evening in Chicago, Karkat takes Dave’s ungloved hand in his, and they step out of his dorm.

Dave has to shove his feet into his shoes and lace them up as quickly as he can, taking the jacket from Karkat and pulling it on. He's glaring at Karkat through his shades, but that's the downsides of them- he doubts Karkat can tell.

He lets Karkat bundle him up, though, and when they step out of Karkat's dorm, Dave gives his hand a squeeze, leaning in and pressing his mouth to Karkat's ear.

"That was a dirty fucking trick and you are going to be _sorry_ later." He growls.

He hopes that Karkat shivers. He's going to pin Karkat to the bed and draw it out so long and rough until Karkat _begs_ for forgiveness.

Nice try, Strider, but Karkat was expecting that move.

_That’s the downside of knowing me all these years. I already know most of your little tricks._

But, oh, does Karkat hope Dave gives him a _challenge_ this evening.

Karkat was expecting Dave to try and catch him off guard with the ear-whisper trick, so he’s able to mask the excited shiver that crawls up his spine with an indifferent shrug of his shoulders.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, you told me you had a very handsome date tonight that you didn’t want to be late for. So I’m just making sure you get there on time.” Karkat says, pretending to be affronted.

They leave Karkat’s dorm building and grab a bus down to the same area Karkat gets off every day to get to the campus. They’ve been chatting about the things to do at Navy Pier, and how it’s a shame that there’s no fireworks events taking place there this time of year, when as they’re walking down the street close to the campus when they pass by the coffee shop from that morning, when they first ran into each other. Karkat comes to a stop and looks at Dave with a small smile.

“You know, I’ve always thought about bringing a date here. This is probably my favorite café in the city,” Karkat says, “it’s still about a half-hour walk to the Pier from campus, so, wanna stop in to grab a hot drink for the walk?”

Dave huffs a little as Karkat uses his own line against him, but the cool air is leeching the flush from his cheeks, is helping to relax his pulse and disperse the arousal that Karkat had oh-so-cruelly stoked in him.

He settles back into a more relaxed attitude as they take the bus, holding Karkat's hand as much as physically possible.

Dave looks at the coffee shop and, in with a snort, says, "hey, want to go order a drink and we can recreate my dickish behavior again by having me make a cinnamon challenge joke?"

Karkat rolls his eyes as they enter the café. God, that already felt like a million years ago, but it was only _this morning._

“Why, so I can call you a—what was it—insufferable prick?” Karkat pulls Dave’s hand in a silent command for Dave to come to a stop before the reach the counter.

Dave does so, and Karkat leans his head on his shoulder and looks up at Dave, trying to make his eyes as big and doe-eyed as possible.

“Still remember my drink order after all these years, _sweetheart_?” Karkat murmurs, soft enough that none of the other patrons in the café can hear him, only Dave.

Karkat brings up his other hand and puts it on Dave’s shoulder so he can push himself up on his toes enough to reach Dave’s ear.

“If you get it right, I’ll let you kiss me.”

Holy shit. Oh, okay, Karkat's playing for real.

Dave hums a little, giving Karkat's hand a squeeze, his entire mindset shifting and reframing the situation. If Karkat wants to _play_ then oh, Dave will play. And he'll turn Karkat into such a flustered, shuddering mess that Karkat will have to admit he lost.

"I think I'll manage, _darling_." He purrs right on back and, quick as a flash, presses a kiss to Karkat's ear before letting go of Karkat's hands and stepping into the line.

He's _pretty_ damn sure he remembers Karkat's drink order, he got chewed out for messing it up more than a couple of times- and that shit has a tendency to stick.

So he orders for the both of them, flashing Karkat a little, confident grin, and collecting their drinks when they're done. He doesn't take them over immediately, though, going over to the extras counter and popping the top off of Karkat's and coating it with, mmm,

With what Dave calls a _disgusting_ amount of cinnamon and Karkat says is _just right._

He slips the top back on (fuck coffee cup tops, Dave always feels like he's just going to fuck up and it'll break and dump his coffee everywhere), and carries the drinks over to Karkat.

"For my _darling_ ," he says, still smirking, "one _almond milk_ , large chamomile tea latte with a _cinnamon challenge worthy_ amount of cinnamon on top."

Karkat has to literally _bite his fucking tongue_ when Dave kisses his ear to keep the noise that threatened to come out of him from bursting out and automatically crowning Dave the winner. He was not going down that fucking easy, Strider Charm be damned.

 _Darling_ , though...that was just uncalled for. So fucking unfair. Dave is bringing out the big guns, pulling out the sappy pet names he knows Karkat reads all the time in his romance books.

Karkat decides to wait over by the door as Dave gets their drinks, watching as Dave goes and practically dumps half the bottle of cinnamon into Karkat’s cup.

Karkat’s stupid dumb head-over-heels in love heart actually aches at the sight. Oh, he was such a keeper.

When Karkat sees Dave coming over he quickly collects himself, wiping the expression of what was no doubt akin to a lovesick puppy dog off his face and putting on a mask of indifference. He accepts his drink from Dave and takes a slow, careful sip, watching Dave over the rim of his cup.

“Impressive,” Karkat says once he lowers his cup. “But...I told you I would give you _permission_ to kiss me, and then you had to go and _steal_.”

Karkat clicks his tongue, shaking his head.

“I thought you would be a little more respectful of my fucking _virtue_ on our first date,” Karkat says, “So, I’m afraid I’m going to have to give you a penalty. Since you couldn’t be _patient_ , and wait until I said you could kiss me...”

Karkat sighs with overdone chagrin, brushes past Dave and out the door, then looks back over his shoulder. And he can’t keep the sneer off his lips.

“I guess you’ll just have to wait until I think you’re ready for another chance.”

Dave's expression could be adequately summed up as a _bitch, really?_ as he watches Karkat fucking _sashay_ out the door.

He takes a sip of his own drink to collect his composure and follows Karkat out the door. He catches up to Karkat and wraps an arm around his shoulders, pressing their sides together.

"Aw, _darling_ , don't be like that." Dave murmurs, dipping his head slightly so he can say it right into Karkat's ear. "I was just so excited to impress you, buttercup, I got..." he drops his voice low, " _excited_." He gives Karkat's shoulder a little squeeze.

"Could you forgive me, darling? Give me another chance?"

Karkat tries to stifle his smug smile by taking a sip of his tea as he walks back onto the street, but only feels his lips pull even wider when he hears the door fully close behind him, and it takes a moment or two before it opens again and Dave’s following him again.

Annnd point to Karkat.

Then Dave comes up from behind, and _god_ Karkat can practically _feel_ the Strider Swagger radiating off him, he’s laying it on so thick. Dave slinks an arm around Karkat’s shoulders (which Karkat could easily break away from but _fuck that noise_ he is seeing where this leads), and leans down to whisper right into Karkat’s ear as they walk along.

 _Buttercup_? Okay, that one was pushing it, and Karkat’s honestly a little ashamed at himself for letting that one make his stomach do a backflip, scowling at himself. But if Dave thinks the way he’s pulling a face right now is out of a lack of reaction to his advances, Karkat will roll with it.

Karkat huffs defiantly. If Dave can lay on the Strider Charm, then Karkat can rev up the classic Grumpy Kat to full throttle.

Karkat knocks Dave’s hand off his shoulder now that he’s let him have a _taste_ for a few moments, wanting to let him know that he was _letting_ him have that one for a time, but times up.

Can’t give him too much contact, especially what Dave tries to take for himself. Dave is _pouncing_ , but Karkat isn’t about to let him catch him so easily.

He’ll let him think he’s got him in his clutches, then wriggle out from under his paws and scurry away again, causing the chase to start anew. Like a cat and mouse playing _tag_.

“Well then, what are you going to do to make it up to me, _Strider_?” Karkat challenges, lacing his voice with all his old school venom. It’s just as half-hearted as it was back then, but still.

Karkat's is being so grumpy and Dave is 95% sure its all an act to spur Dave on. Okay, maybe 96%. But either way, seeing Karkat shrug away his arm and put his nose up in the air and talk to him in a snooty tone-

oh this _really_ shouldn't be getting Dave's engine going right now, he should have more control than this, but- Wow. Yeah, the idea of Karkat tying him to the bed and using that tone of voice as he asks Dave why Dave thinks he _deserves_ his dick...

Mmm.

Wait, no, down boy. Focus.

Dave hums a little bringing his cup up and smiling around the rim at Karkat as he takes a sip. He reaches out and takes Karkat's left hand, bringing it up to his mouth and pressing a lingering kiss over Karkat's ring finger.

"Why, I'm going to make you feel like the luckiest guy in the world." Dave purrs.

Karkat’s stupid dumb idiotic head-over-heels heart skips a beat when Dave specifically kisses his ring finger.

Why was it the simple, yet incredibly romantic gestures that was getting Karkat’s blood pumping, even more than Dave _growling_ in his ear?

Karkat knows he can’t keep the blush off his face, but he thanks the chill in the air for making it difficult to determine whether his cheeks are flushed from the cold or from Dave’s sweet gesture.

Karkat lets Dave’s lips linger, and then he (gently, this time) takes his hand away. He shoves his hand in his pocket and with his drink in his other hand, there’s no hand to hold onto.

“Care to elaborate on why that would be?” Karkat asks, taking a sip of his drink, “I’m about to making a pretty big commitment, after all. Gotta know what I’m in for.”

Oh, yeah. Gotcha. Karkat's expression went wide and besotted and Dave _caught_ that look before Karkat wiped it off his face. He's really feeling the romance today.

His face is such a pretty red, too. Dave doesn't protest when Karkat tugs his hand away.

"Well, now." Dave muses, rocking on his heels a bit. "I figure we'd walk along the dock all romantic-like and I could tell you all the different things I like about you."

Man, now _that's_ a topic Dave could talk about for hours on. He would be more than willing to write damn _monologues_ about his boyfriend.

"Then maybe stop for dinner and I could tell you all about the reasons you should be making that commitment and what I have to offer for you."

He grins a little. "And then, if you're still not satisfied, we'll find a nice, secluded spot and I'll kiss you until your lips go numb."

Hoo boy. Dave is really going for it with the romantic gestures now. Karkat must have let it slip that it was working...shit! Curse his romance-loving ass!

But then again, Karkat is the #1 expert in all things romance. As much as he enjoys romantic gestures, he also knows how to dish them out. He is not about to be beaten at his own fucking game.

“Dinner, huh?” Karkat says, putting the innocent lilt back into his voice, “I guess I can tell you now what I was doing when I left the room earlier. I made us some reservations at Riva. You still like seafood, right?”

Karkat decides to link his arm with Dave’s. He’s gotta admit, he’s _very_ curious about hearing all about all the ways Dave likes him.

“Why don’t you give me a little snippet about those things you like about me?” Karkat asks, pressing a little closer. “If I like what I hear, I might be inclined to let you try kissing me again.”

"Seafood sounds _perfect_." Dave says. Oh man, he hasn't gotten to have salmon in like. Fucking _forever_ wow. That actually makes him more than a little excited for dinner.

He resists the urge to grin as Karkat links their arms. Come on, Dave, one fucking day and your pokerface is _shattered_? Lame.

"Well, now, where should I start?" Dave muses as they start to stroll. "I guess I could always start with the superficial- your eyes are the prettiest goddamn things I've ever seen. I'm always loved them, you know."

He glances to Karkat, his smirk turning fond. "Every time I look into your eyes, babe, it's like I'm at an event horizon. They just pull me in and I _can't_ get away- they're fucking _magnetic_ , babe, your eyes like a goddamn black hole- awe inspiring and breathtaking and makes it impossible to pull away."

Karkat didn’t think his eyes were anything special—nothing like Dave’s anyway.

Dave had this rare condition that made his eyes really sensitive to light, and also made his irises red. It was one of the reasons he’d worn shades as long as Karkat had known him. He had some reasons more deep-rooted than that, which is why Karkat never asked Dave to take them off, always letting him do so on his own terms.

Karkat still remembers the first time he saw Dave’s eyes for the first time.

How someone like Dave, who probably has the most gorgeous eyes Karkat has ever seen, can say all this nice stuff about Karkat’s eyes, is crazy.

Karkat called them brown. Dave called them _cherrywood_. Apparently, according to Dave, there was little flecks of red in there, if you look close enough. Karkat had spent plenty of time staring down his reflection in the mirror trying to see what the hell Dave was talking about. Maybe Dave’s eye condition allowed him to see more colours than usual? Like, the polar opposite of colour blind. But Karkat still wasn’t convinced that his eyes weren’t anything other than just a regular dark brown.

But the way Dave spoke about them now almost made him feel like he could believe it.

He can’t let Dave know _that_ , however. At least not in the middle of their game.

So instead Karkat sighs softly and says, “Don’t be ridiculous, they’re just muddy brown eyes, nothing _magnetic_ about them.”

And if he’s fishing for compliments, he isn’t about to say anything about it.

If it makes Dave keep going, that’s fine by him.

He makes to sure to give Dave a compliment in return, of course. “Your eyes are way prettier than mine,” he says, giving Dave’s arm a light squeeze.

It’s a silent way of letting Dave know _keep it up._

Dave scoffs at that, at Karkat's immediate dismissal of his compliments. "You think I'm making shit up?" He asks. "Because sweetheart, I will write _novels_ about your eyes. Your eyes are so beautifully shaped that angels _weep_ in envy. Yeah the angels that aren't supposed to be feeling sin? Your eyes are so fucking pretty that you make _heavenly creatures_ learn how to sin just to be envious."

His stomach does flutter a bit, thought, at Karkat saying his eyes are pretty. _Exotic_ , maybe, _weird as fuck_ , sure, but- hearing that Karkat thinks they're pretty makes him feel so warm.

"And the color- you might think they're _muddy_ , but that is doing you such a disservice. Your eyes are the most beautiful orbs of color I've ever seen- so fucking solid and grounded like the most beautiful mahogany trees out there. Your eyes are a _treasure_ , darling."

He pulls them to a stop and shifts his coffee cup to his other hand so that he can look at Karkat and lift his hand up to his chin, gently tilting it up, thumb resting just shy of Karkat's lower lip.

" _Karkat_ ," He says softly, reverently, "I would use every cheesy, schmoozy, bad pickup line in the world if it meant I would get to have your eyes looking at me for just one more second."

Okay, he's laying it on _really_ thick, but- nothing Dave said here is _technically_ wrong.

Dave pulls out the _sweetheart_ , and okay. Okay. That’s not fucking fair, turning the tables on him like that. What a fucking copycat.

All that shit about angels and whatever is Dave’s Classic Babble: Romance Edition. Where it’s sweet but also laced with a goofiness that Karkat spent a long time trying to convince himself wasn’t endearing as hell.

Then Dave pulls them to a stop, right there in the middle of the street, and Dave tilts Karkat’s chin up and has his hand touching Karkat’s so gently that it makes Karkat want to melt.

Dave says Karkat’s name with so much motherfucking _piety_ in his voice that Karkat’s knees turn to pudding and he has to try _very_ , **very** hard to keep his face neutral because Dave has him trapped right now, holding him so gently yet firmly in place.

This would be so much easier if Dave would ramble on about how much he worshipped Karkat’s ass, or how “fly” he thought his dick was. You know, Dave’s usual attempts at flirting.

But _this_ is just not fucking fair.

“Okay. You get one,” he whispers. He darts his tongue out to lick his lips and then swallows roughly around a lump in his throat. “one kiss. Better make it count.”

Fuck yes. _Fuck_ yes, Dave is staring right down into Karkat's eyes and he is 100% in fucking control of this game right now. Karkat is so fucking deep in Dave's romantic throes that he might as well be calling Dave _Jane Austin_ for how goddamn masterfully he is weaving this romance around them.

One kiss. It takes everything Dave has not to lean in and just _devour_ Karkat's mouth, despite how badly he wants to do so.

No, he's going to keep the game. Going to make Karkat feel so much fucking _yearning_ that by the end of the night he'll be _desperate_.

So Dave slowly, carefully leans in and presses a soft, chaste kiss to Karkat's mouth. No tongue, no teeth, just a gentle, lingering press of their lips. Gentle. _Worshipful_.

And then he pulls away.

Karkat lets his eyes close as Dave slowly leans in and presses the most perfectly soft and sweet kiss to his lips, and he wants to _sigh_ because Dave is _so good,_ it’s everything Karkat wants. Chaste and gentle and careful, as if they were kissing for the very first time.

And then it’s over. Just one simple, gentle, sweet, perfect, amazing, absolutely far-too-short kiss, and then Dave pulls away.

Karkat’s eyes flutter open as Dave’s lips pull away, his mouth tingling and feeling fucking _cold_ without Dave’s lips to warm them.

He looks at Dave, making sure he slips the mask of indifference back on. But he takes his time to do so, not too worried if Dave can see the yearning in his gaze, just for a moment.

It’s a reminder of what he’s chasing him for.

“You’re pretty good at that,” Karkat says. He pulls his lips into a knowing smirk. “Almost like you’ve done it before.”

Then he turns and keeps walking down the street, taking a sip of his drink. To get his lips warm again.

Dave comes up beside Karkat, and Karkat can see in his peripheral vision that Dave is looking like a cat who found the cream.

Karkat takes another long sip of his drink, mulling over what to do. The game was far from over, and he wasn’t about to go down from a simple kiss. He considers asking Dave to keep going with his list of things he likes about him, but that will probably wind up working more to Dave’s benefit than his own.

He honestly hadn’t expected to be so good at slathering on the sap, but he sure could layer it on thick when he wanted to.

When he wanted it bad enough.

Dave had been flipping a bunch of Karkat’s own moves back onto him to try and throw him off. Maybe it was time for Karkat to do the same.

He remembers back to the shower they had earlier that day, at how flushed Dave got at his praise. And how Dave thrashed and moaned and whimpered beneath him as he made a necklace of hickeys on his collarbone while equally riddling him with compliments.

Karkat still isn’t sure what had made Dave break apart more. His lips and teeth and tongue bruising his skin, or the words coming out of his mouth.

Now seems as good a time as any to see which it was.

“Do you remember the first time you kissed me?” Karkat asks, “I was a bundle of nerves the entire time. I couldn’t believe that I was about to kiss my best fucking friend, and the guy I’d had the _biggest_ crush on since I was thirteen years old.”

Karkat links their arms again as they walk and he continues his story.

“I’m pretty sure I was crazy about you from the moment I saw you, even if it started off as a vehement denial that it was the _good_ kind of crazy,” Karkat says, “You were just so much... _more_ than me. You always knew just what to say to push my buttons, but you were also the most thoughtful person I knew. You seemed to be able to do and say the perfect things at the perfect time without even trying. And the fact you had no idea what it did to me just drove me even _more_ crazy.”

Karkat leans his head softly on Dave’s shoulder. “I always thought, there’s no way that a guy like him would ever see anything in a guy like me. You were funny, cool, everyone wanted to be around you. Your voice turned my fucking bones to jelly, and the first time I ever made you _laugh_ —your real laugh, not the cool kid laugh you did at school—oh boy. I was done for.”

Karkat turns his head to kiss Dave’s shoulder, even though he can’t possibly feel it through his thick jacket. It’s the principle of the thing. Karkat’s pulling out all the stops. The fact Dave _can’t_ feel it just works even better. Karkat keeps his face pressed against Dave’s shoulder as he continues.

“So imagine what a wreck I was when I actually got to _kiss_ you. You were nervous too, but god, I thought I was going to faint. And when we both finally gathered up the courage to go for it—“ Karkat moves his head so that, if Dave is looking (and he hopes he is) he’ll be able to see Karkat run his tongue over his lips, “—I still remember exactly how you tasted.”

God, Karkat's expression as Dave pulls away- it's so soft and longing and _loving_. It lingers for a moment before Karkat pulls his mask of indifference back on, but Dave savors the sight, knowing that yes, that's a whole handful of points to Player Dave.

He makes an amused noise as Karkat calls him _good at kissing_ because, yes, he sure _hopes_ he is, strolling quickly to catch up with Karkat, unable to keep the pleased little smirk off of his face.

Unless Karkat's going to pull some sneaky trick, Dave has this in the _bag_. Karkat's a hopeless romantic, but Dave can spread that shit like goddamn _honey_. Thick and clinging and sweet and cloying.

Just the way Karkat likes it.

He glances over as Karkat starts talking, a good of reminiscing. The re-linking of their arms makes him grin a bit, taking a sip of his coffee.

Warmth is settling into his belly as he listens to Karkat talk, a little bit of embarrassment squirming alongside as he listens to how Karkat thought he was _perfect_ , so much _more_ and _better_ than Karkat which-

it was basically the complete opposite. Dave was a jackass wreck who managed to keep his social standing through the power of his cool attitude and the right quips at the right time.

Karkat, though, Karkat was fucking magnetic. He repelled most people, but the people he pulled in- they stuck to him and stuck to him _hard_. He created an awe-inducting level of loyalty in his friends- and Dave was _jealous_. His friends, apart from a couple, were all mostly superficial. He knew everyone's names, knew the most basic information to hold a conversation- but he didn't _know_ anyone.

His chest feels tight as Karkat puts his head on Dave's shoulder. He looks down at Karkat, swallowing thickly.

He doesn't know if this is part of the game or not, but fuck. Karkat's hitting him right in his emotions somewhere and hitting him _hard_.

"Yeah?" He manages, tracking the slide of Karkat's tongue. "And what did I taste like?"

Karkat peeks up at Dave curiously. Hmm, it’s not having the same reaction as before. Maybe it was just the attention Karkat gave to Dave’s collarbone that had caused that big reaction, after all.

He watches Dave’s throat bob as he swallows, and when he speaks his voice is thick as he asks Karkat what he tasted like.

Huh. Maybe it _was_ having an affect. Just not the one Karkat expected.

“Well, you had been drinking a bottle of apple juice so mainly that,” Karkat says lightly, pulling his arm out from Dave’s.

He bumps against his arm, letting him know he’s not going far, and then slides his arm down and tucks his hand into the back pocket of Dave’s jeans.

“I mean, for everything you see about it in books, people don’t just naturally taste like _strawberries_ or _vanilla_ without slathering a bunch of stuff on their lips beforehand. And even then it’s gone after a few seconds,” Karkat shrugs, “so the first taste was the lingering bit of juice on your lips, and then the rest was just... _you_. Warm and wet and sweet. Lips all taste the fucking same, but, whenever I kissed _yours_...” Karkat squeezes his hand inside Dave’s pocket, “I got what all those books were talking about.”

Dave feels his brows furrow as Karkat unlinks their arm, but then jolts slightly as Karkat slides his hand into Dave's back pocket. That sneaky little- alright, doubts gone, this is abso _lutely_ part of the game.

But god, it feels good to hear Karkat talk about how he remembers their first kiss, which is _incredibly_ different to Dave remembers it.

He grins a little, face going hot at the description. "Yeah?" He has to bite his lip to hold back a noise at the squeeze of his ass. "Was it as romantic and dreamy as all the books say? Cause that's a pretty big difference to how I remember our first kiss."

Karkat smiles when he feels Dave jolt, taking that as a half-point for himself. Which is why he lets himself take Dave’s bait.

“I wish I could say yes, but I was so worried about you thinking my lips were chapped or sticky or that I had bad breath that I couldn’t exactly be swept up in the throes of passion like the characters in those books get at their first kiss.” Karkat admits, “but that doesn’t mean I don’t look back on it and feel what I was _supposed_ to be feeling in that moment, if I hadn’t been so wracked with nerves.”

Karkat gives Dave another, longer squeeze, then pulls his hand out of Dave’s pocket, so that he can snake his arm around Dave’s wait, tucking his thumb into the belt loop on Dave’s hip. He presses the pads of his fingers into Dave’s hipbone, right where he left bruises that morning. They’ve had a few hours to seep into Dave’s skin, so he should really be feeling them now, even through his jeans.

“So how do you remember our first kiss?” Karkat asks, bumping his cheek against Dave’s shoulder.

"True." Dave agrees, closing his eyes against the second squeeze which he had been expecting. Then Karkat loops his arm around Dave's waist and his fingers _dig into the damn bruises on Dave's hips._

It throbs so deliciously painful, sending heat sparking through Dave. He takes in a sharp inhale and forces himself to let it out slowly. Not a groan. _Not_ a groan.

"Well," he says, and is very proud that his voice doesn't shake. "The way I remember it is a pretty vivid mix of nerves and sweat running down my spine as I stared at this boy that I really, _really_ liked and was trying to work up enough courage to actually kiss."

He takes a sip of coffee to steady himself.

"I remember pretty vividly watching the profile of your face." He's not actually trying to play, to be romantic right now, enjoying the wistful remembrance. "Watching the way your mouth moved and wishing I could put my mouth on yours. I don't know how I finally got the courage to do it. I had to fist my hands on my knees so you wouldn't see them shaking."

He chuckles a little, glancing down at Karkat. "But when our lips touched- it wasn't fireworks or butterflies or anything like that. It was just... quiet."

He's not really sure if _quiet_ communicates what he means properly. Maybe _serene_ would have been a better choice. His mind had been running a million miles an hour and his hands had been shaking and he had been sweating like crazy but the moment their mouths touched, it was like it all went dead silent. The only thing in the world was the gentle, soft touch of their mouths together, and Dave's brain was _quiet_.

Karkat smirks when he hears Dave suck in a sharp breath, then exhale, slow and controlled. Another point.

Then Dave starts talking, and the smirk slips off of Karkat’s lips at the soft remembrance in Dave’s voice. He’s not laying on the charm right now, he’s not slathering this description in romantic, syrupy drivel.

Karkat remembers it like it was yesterday, of course. It was a day like any other; they had gone to Karkat’s place straight after school. They worked on some homework, then played some video games. Dave was playing while Karkat watched, adding his commentary now and then. Looking back, he can recall that Dave was sucking extra hard at the game that day. He kept fucking up and getting a game over screen because his character would just...veer off the path and fall to his death. Or not react in time to an enemy. Or miss a jump.

When he gave Dave shit about it back then, Dave just shrugged it off. Made up some excuse about being fried from the long school day, or something. Karkat just rolled his eyes and grabbed the controller from Dave, taking over. Trying to ignore the jolt that shot up his arm as their hands touched.

And now Karkat finally knows why. Dave had...Dave had been watching him. Not just listening to Karkat ramble on about the game mechanics or how stupid the side quest was or whatever the fuck else he’d been going on about, but _watching_ him talk. Looking at his _mouth_. And Karkat hadn’t even noticed.

 _Quiet_.

Karkat remembers the silence too. How all of his nerves just faded away the moment their lips touched. He couldn’t even hear the soft, wet sound of their lips moving together.

He just tasted apple juice and then nothing and knew he never wanted to kiss anyone else.

He pulls on Dave’s belt loop to bring them to a stop, and stares up at Dave openly.

“Yeah,” Karkat murmurs, “not even static. Just—just silence.”

Dave comes to a halt as Karkat tugs on his belt loop, and looks at the soft, open expression on Karkat's face. The tender, fond crinkle of his eyes and the spit-shiny gleam of his slightly-parted lips.

"Yeah." Dave says softly. "Like everything else could finally get put to the side and you were the only thing that mattered."

Because it was. In that moment, Karkat had been the only thing that mattered. Obama himself could have walked in the door and Dave wouldn't have cared.

He leans in and gently bumps their hat-covered foreheads together, smiling tenderly.

"Karkat, I wanna kiss you so bad." He breathes. _Outside the game_ , is what he means. He just wants to kiss Karkat breathless, until both of them are full and satiated. For the time being, of course- Dave's hunger for Karkat's kisses feels _endless_.

Karkat feels like he can’t fucking breathe.

It’s like there’s a thick cord between him and Dave right now, tethering their souls together. And if Karkat were to just pull away from this moment, just to keep the game going...

He’d be the stupidest motherfucker on the planet.

“Yeah,” Karkat chokes out, around his lungs that feel completely void of air. He swallows and tries again, “I mean, _yeah_ —yeah, okay, I’m...I’m hitting the pause button. And then you kiss me like you missed me, because you didn’t do it earlier when I asked you to, and we’ll chalk that up to points and—and then the games back the _fuck_ on because I am _not_ done riling you up.”

Dave laughs softly, delighted, and says "sounds like a plan to me."

And then he kisses Karkat.

He starts just a slow, gentle press of the mouth, bringing his free hand up to cup the side of Karkat's face. Gentle. Longing. The kisses he thought about in early morning before the sun rose or the rainy days where he would hang out under underpasses so he wouldn't have to go home. Just remembering the touch of Karkat's skin and feeling heartsick and aching for something, _anything_ to keep him together. To keep him whole.

He twists, adds a bit more pressure, mouthing against Karkat's lips. Begging for forgiveness, the kisses of tear-soaked pillows and messages almost sent and _forgive me, forgive me, I miss you-_ , the desperate kisses pressed to letters as they're sealed, weeping as they're burnt instead of mailed.

His hand slides to cup the back of Karkat's neck and his mouth goes soft, gently licking at Karkat's mouth, tenderly pressing his way inside. Early evening ice cream daydreams and soft, young love. Tender and gentle and deep, crooning _I love you, I love you, my love-_ with every little flick of his tongue. The kisses of lying on roofs and imagining his boyfriend with him, how he would roll over and kiss him until he couldn't breath.

And again, he shifts, his licking becoming more insistent, his teeth catching on Karkat's lip and biting, hungrier and wanting, the kisses of _desire_ , burning and yearning across the distance, grinding against each other in alleys and rolling together on the bed, struggling to one-up each other, the young fire in their veins surging wildly.

The lets it all bleed away to just soft, soft, _soft_ little presses and breath against Karkat's mouth. _I'm here._ The kisses whisper. _I'm here. I love you. I'm not leaving again._

Finally, he pulls back, their foreheads resting together again, just breathing softly, expression soft and full of love.

Karkat’s never been kissed so good in his life.

It’s like every kiss they’ve ever shared all rolled into one, and as their mouths move, every kiss is playing back in Karkat’s mind.

Tentative and shy and _terrified_ of ruining what was already a good thing, sitting there on Karkat’s bed like they’d done a million times before. The game paused, the controller on the floor, forgotten. Nothing else existed but the press of their lips.

He even remembers the kisses that never were. Standing outside Dave’s apartment building, and Dave extends his arm for a fist bump. They’ve never ever done a fist bump before. Karkat does it anyway, and if he saw the way Dave’s entire arm was shaking, he doesn’t say anything about it.

Quick, desperate kisses when they were certain they were alone, searched out in empty rooms and dark corners.

Nervous but passionate under the covers, feeling like the first time all over again. Because it _is_ a first, for some things.

Every needy, hot, hungry kiss that followed, the result of insatiable youth, an all-consuming, flame-bright hunger that had them clawing at each other the moment they could be alone, latching on like bloodthirsty leeches until they drained each other dry.

And then the last. When neither of them had known it would be. A kiss taken for granted, because they’d kissed so many times before. And it never stopped feeling good, but it had become their normal.

He wonders how he would have kissed him, then, if he’d known it would be five years before he did it again.

It probably would have been a lot like this.

Then again, you don’t really know what you’ve got until it’s gone. Until it’s ripped away from you without a trace with no hope of having it ever again. Maybe this is a kiss that can only come from that pain, the only logical conclusion to finally drawing the last of the poison out.

Dave pulls away, bumps his forehead against Karkat’s, and all Karkat can do for a moment is pant, keeping his eyes closed.

Then Karkat opens his eyes. And he keeps his eyes on Dave as he tosses his half-full cup over his shoulder. It hits the curb and bursts open, spilling his drink all over the road.

Then he jumps.

Dave smiles down at Karkat fondly, just wanting to savor th-

wwwwwhy is Karkat tossing away his oh _fuCK_ -

Dave yelps and manages to toss his coffee to the side as Karkat fucking _leaps_ into his arms and Dave staggers back a step or two, desperately grabbing at Karkat and trying to haul him up and balance the two of them from the sudden impact and weight and _somehow_ he manages it.

And then he's standing there, carrying his boyfriend, breathing shakily.

"Hi?" He says, bemused, shifting his grips slightly to be more secure. "Holy shit, Karkat."

“Hi. Still paused,” is all Karkat says as he grabs the sides of Dave’s face and crushes their lips back together.

Are there other people on this street right now? Is there someone walking down the sidewalk? Karkat gives absolutely zero shits.

He locks his ankles together around Dave’s waist, squeezing Dave’s hips with his thighs, doing his best to hold up as much of his own weight as he can, as he feels Dave stumble again underneath them.

“Sorry,” Karkat mutters quickly as he comes up for air, “I’ll buy you another coffee.”

And then he’s back on Dave’s mouth.

_Oh_ , okay- With that, Dave has no resistance to kissing Karkat deep and hard. Shifting his weight and grabbing Karkat's thighs roughly to hold him up properly, Karkat's locked ankles really help, he presses up into Karkat's furious assault of his mouth.

Dave really wasn't wrong, earlier. He and Karkat are absolutely going to be the disgusting couple who indulge in way too much PDA and cannot keep their hands off of each other in public.

Which is totally fine with him, because he, too, cannot be bothered to give a single fucking shit about anything that is not the gorgeous man currently clinging to him like a goddamn koala.

Oh _fuck_ yes, Dave pitches his initial confusion out the window and kisses Karkat back with the same desperate passion. His hands squeeze into Karkat’s thighs and Karkat groans against their mouths, moving his hands from Dave’s face so he can wrap his arms around Dave’s shoulders, holding on for dear life as their lips clash against one another in a messy dance.

Maybe Karkat should just cancel those fucking reservations. Maybe he never restarts the game. Maybe Dave just needs to carry him into the nearest alley and pin him to the wall and kiss him rough and deep and needy.

Karkat has no idea how to reel this back in. He wants Dave so bad it hurts, and if this had happened before he’d been fucked four times already then— public decency be damned—Karkat would be rock hard right now. But his body, although it makes a _valiant_ effort, still won’t react.

Which is probably for the best, because he and Dave are currently going full Notebook kiss in the middle of the sidewalk right now and it’s pretty fucking heated so, who knows, they might just get arrested for their highly aggressive public display of affection.

Ah, well. Fuckin’ worth it.

God this is so fucking weird and also hot and _disgustingly_ movie romantic and Dave is being kissed breathless by his fucking boyf-

by his fucking _fiancé_ holy shit his goddamn _fiancé_ is kissing him like he needs Dave more than he needs air.

This is literally the best day of Dave's entire life.

Eventually, though, he mumbles, "okay, okay-" trying to tilt his head back and break the kiss, "Karkat, we're gonna- get arrested for public indecency-" he gasps.

Karkat barely lets Dave get the words out, recapturing his lips again and again until Dave leans himself back enough that Karkat wouldn’t be able to reach—not without making them both tumble down to the pavement.

Karkat wants to say, _who caaaares,_ he wants to say, _let them arrest us, we’ll just keep making out in the jail cell,_ he wants to say _, Dave Strider you march your ass into the nearest alleyway right the fuck now and_ ** _take me_** _—_

But Dave has a point.

“Okay. Okay. Letting go now,” Karkat warns, breathless, and he unlocks his ankles and drops down.

He and Dave stand there for a moment just looking at each other, both looking breathless and disheveled like they’d just run a marathon. Then Karkat goes and grabs their discarded cups off the ground.

There’s a huge spill of tea over on the curb, dripping onto the street, and a big puddle of coffee right in the middle of the fucking sidewalk— _whoops_ —that they really can’t do anything about. But Karkat does toss their cups into a trash can that was...honestly pretty fucking close by. But he had not been in any sort of mindset that would have had the wherewithal to politely throw out their drinks before leaping into Dave’s arms like he was Ryan goddamn Gosling.

Once he’s discarded their cups, he looks over at Dave and clears his throat.

“Right. Well, uh,” _wow_ it was gonna be an awkward transition back into the game from _that_. “Unpause.”

Then he reconsiders. “Actually, no, fuck that—restart. Do over. None of that fucking counted.” Karkat says sharply, then he nods to himself while crossing his arms, as though that makes it law.

“Alright, let’s get the fuck out of here before someone reports us or some shit.” And with that Karkat spins on his heel and heads down the street.

Dave breathes unsteadily for a moment as he carefully lets Karkat down. They stand there for a minute and Dave's heart is beating _so_ fast. He watches Karkat collect their cups ( _his poor coffee- today is just not his day for drinks-_ ) and then waffle for a moment.

Dave laughs and hurries to catch up alongside Karkat as Karkat powerwalks away.

"Hey, you know," He says, slowing as he reaches Karkat's side, and links their arms together. "I love our one-upping each other shenanigans but-" he glances down along the road, "If I'm being honest, I kinda want to table it. For the night, I mean." He finds Karkat's hand and gives it a little squeeze. "I think.. I'd rather just spend time talking." He says softly.

“Oh thank fucking _christ_ ,” Karkat sighs, maybe a tad over-dramatically, slumping against Dave. “You were _way_ better at that than I was, anyway. I’m pretty sure I lost and you know what, I’m a big enough person to admit when my fiancé has fucking bested me at romance.”

Karkat presses his cheek into Dave’s shoulder as he squeezes his arm. “Guess that’s whyI’m _marryingyou._ ” Karkat adds on in a mumble, speeding through the last bit as he feels his face light on fire.

Dave laughs softly as Karkat slumps against him and gives Karkat's hand another squeeze. His heart skips a beat and he quickly turns to press a kiss to the top of Karkat's head.

"Yes, yes you are." Dave says in delight. "Sides, you might be the most avid _consumer_ of romance- but I am clearly the most avid _producer_." He laughs. "One cannot exist without the other."

Karkat pouts. His reputation was in shambles after just a few honeyed words from Dave.

The pout quickly falls off his face and turns into a small smile when Dave kisses his head. Karkat wishes he wasn’t wearing a hat so he could feel Dave’s lips press into his hair.

In fact he wishes he wasn’t wearing anything at all, and they were back in Karkat’s room, under the covers...

Karkat sighs. _Easyyy, Vantas._ They had all the time in the world.

“So, what have you been up to since you came to Chicago, other than school?” Karkat asks, “I know you said you landed a scholarship, but, are you working too? What do you get up to when you aren’t in class?”

"Mm." Dave nods a little, shifting his grip on Karkat's hand so that their fingers could be intertwined. "The internship I have is a paid one and thank _fuck_ for that." He says. "It takes up two out of my three non-class days so my only _real_ day off I have is every Saturday."

"I honestly don't really have much else going on right now." Dave says with a shrug. "Sometimes Roxy makes me come drinking with her when we're done with work for the day."

He's suddenly, cripplingly aware of how little of a social life he has. His friends can basically be summed up as his roommates, Roxy and Callie, and like... two other people he met in his classes.

Wow. That's pretty sad.

He doesn't exactly have any hobbies other than mashing music together and hoping it sounds good, either. Most of his time not working or doing homework usually involves just... binging shows. Or lying in bed scrolling through his phone for hours. He just never usually has the energy to... _do_ stuff.

Karkat wants to sigh in relief but he holds it back. Even if Dave doesn’t have much going on at the moment other than school and his internship, he’s glad that he’s at least got some good people in his life.

Despite all the shit-talking they do, and Karkat would never tell this to his face but...Sollux is actually a really good friend. He and Karkat actually had a few Real Talks via Pesterchum in the past. Though none of them exist anymore—they both agreed to delete them afterwards. Way too fucking embarrassing.

And even though Karkat just met him, and his first impression was getting fucking _electrocuted_ , there’s still no doubt in his mind that John is a good friend to Dave. In fact, Karkat would go as far to say that John is to Dave what Jade is to him. Absolute ride-or-die best friend that keeps you in check.

And then there’s Roxy, from Dave’s internship. And probably a couple school friends, maybe not ones he ever talks to or hangs out with outside of class, but at least he’s not just...sitting by himself in class, not talking to anyone.

“I’m in the same boat, really,” Karkat replies, “I guess that’s just the way it is when you’re in school. Last couple of years for me have been a monotonous routine of class, gym, work, sleep, repeat. Not always in that order, sometimes I get _really_ crazy and go to the gym before class, or after work. Or the gym doesn’t even happen at all and I stay home eating pizza and playing video games. Just to shake things up.”

Karkat makes a mental note about Dave having Saturdays off. He usually works Saturday nights, but sounds like he’ll have to start asking for a couple Saturdays off now and then.

“I wait tables a couple nights a week, part-time,” Karkat explains about work, “It’s not a lot of hours, but the tips are what really help me from having to resort to eating one of Gamzee’s High Pies. That and dad and Kankri both insist on sending me care packages once a month.”

Dave nods a little as Karkat talks. Yeah, that sounds about right, semi-monotonous routine only broken up by... like, a handful of things every now and again.

Karkat _waiting tables,_ though, that's interesting. His temper really must have chilled out over the years, if he's able to hold a job where he has to interact with some of the shittiest people on the planet.

"I'm glad your family looks out for you, but holy shit, _Kankri_." Dave says on a bit of a laugh. "I can't believe I almost forgot about him. What's that bastard up to these days?"

He's got a weird fond-not-fond memory of Kankri. Kankri was... weird cool and also the most annoying person Dave's ever met. He would stick his neck out for them on really really weird things, but then turn around and lecture them for _hours_ about the _stupidest_ ones.

Dave will forever be grateful to him tho for the one time he talked circles around Bro to hide the face that Dave had broken a rule.

“I know you’re probably thinking that there’s no fucking way I could wait tables because if some cocksucker told me his soup wasn’t hot enough I’d dump it on his crotch,” Karkat says, “but you ever heard of Ed Debevic’s? That’s where I work, and it’s literally a diner where the employees are _intentionally_ rude. Well, most of the staff just do it for show, but...I’m just saying what I’m really feeling, and the customers laugh because they think, oh, he’s just joking. So I get to be as brutally honest as I want and the customers love it and my boss doesn’t fire me. So pretty much the perfect job ever.”

Karkat rubs his thumb on the inside of Dave’s palm as they come to a stop at an intersection, waiting for the signal to walk.

He rolls his eyes when Dave brings up Kankri. “He’s fine. He’s got some job as a youth councilor or some shit. I keep waiting to see the news article where all the teens who’s minds he’s trying to mold all tie him up and gag him and hang him by his stupid high-waisted pants from a flag pole.”

Dave ducks his head on a laugh as Karkat describes the restaurant. "Well!" He says cheerfully. "All my questions have been answered. Maybe I'll have to swing by and watch you work sometimes."

That would be fun, just chilling and eating some food while sitting back and watching his boyfriend tear into people. Dave's always loved seeing him lose it. Preferably on people who _weren't_ Dave, but- it's like goddamn art, every time.

He huffs at the news about Kankri, though. "Yeah, that sounds about right." Youth councilor? He can see it. He's got that smarmy attitude and a desire to help, even if he does it in the most fucking annoying way possible.

As they cross the street, Dave hums a little, his mind wandering back to earlier. Well, there's a lot of earlier, but specifically something that had made him... fucking astonished, now that he thinks more about it.

"It's pretty fucking wild that you're friends with my roommate and somehow he just... never mentioned us to each other." Dave muses. "Almost like some movie shit."

“I know, right?” Karkat says, incredulous, “I mean, I know I came to Chicago before you did. I met Sollux in my first year. But still. He and I talked a lot, sure, and we’d sometimes hang out in the computer lab after class, and we talked and played games online...but we never hung out at either of our dorms.”

It’s the first time Karkat’s thought about it, and now that he has the realization runs down his face slowly. “Holy shit. Imagine if I went over to his dorm and then...there you are, sitting on the couch with John or some shit.”

The more Karkat thinks about, the crazier it becomes. How the _hell_ had it taken this fucking long to see each other again when they knew someone mutually? Someone Dave fucking LIVED with?

“And Sollux never mentioned your name, ever. And neither did I, obviously. I didn’t mention you to anyone, not even Jade. But if either of us had, then...” Karkat shakes his head, “Jesus. We used to do voice calls when we played video games all the time, but...even if you were in the room he would have probably been wearing his headphones so it’s not like you’d be able to hear my voice and recognize it was _me_ Sollux was gaming with.”

It was already crazy dumb luck that they’d even wound up in the same city, at the same _college_. The universe had already lined up all their shots. They were right under each other’s noses for so long but...

“You were _right there_ the whole fucking time and me and Sollux had sticks so far up our asses that they came out our ears about hanging out because our friendship was so emotionally stunted, and we were both such introverted chicken shits so we never invited each other over...and if we fucking did, we would’ve been back together YEARS ago!” Karkat cries, slapping his forehead with his palm at the absolute absurdity of it all.

Dave imagines it. Imagines sitting on the couch, watching a bad movie with John and tearing it apart as John laughs and protests and....

and Karkat just walks in.

Dave doesn't know how he would've reacted. Would have have just shut down? Broken down into tears right there at the sight on him literally walking back into Dave's life? Would he have fumbled it so badly that Karkat would have refused to talk to him?

His stomach drops at the idea and he swallows thickly, trying to refocus on what Karkat's saying.

"It's so fucking unfair for the universe to just.... _drop_ us in the same area and then take so long for us to actually _find_ each other." Dave muses. "Clearly we need to boycott the mysterious forces of luck in the universe for doing a sloppy job."

He bumps their shoulders together, grinning at Karkat. "I'm making my own luck from now on, babe!" He declares. "Homegrown, homespun, homechurned- 100% Grade A All Natural Luck- none of this halfway-finished slapdash quality luck."

Karkat laughs. “Maybe the universe was so sick and tired of waiting around, and was just like _this is taking too long, make those dumbshits bump into each other at a coffee shop!_ ” Karkat waves his hand dramatically, “but you know what, universe? Could have fucking done that a few years ago! So you’re right, fuck the universe and it’s stupid wishy-washy halfass luck.”

Karkat bumps Dave’s shoulder back with a snicker. “Bet whatever benevolent god up there that was trying to make this shit happen these last few years and is just agog at what a whirlwind rollercoaster of a day this has been.” he says, “was probably expecting a least another full 24 hours of wariness and unresolved sexual tension, but _nope_ holy shit those crazy motherfuckers are _affianced_ , what the actual fuck.”

Dave laughs, ducking his head as Karkat rants at the universe.

"Seriously, the _most_ over-utilized trope in existence, fucking _coffee shops_ and the universe decided 'yeah, let's chuck these two losers together in one because cliche's are _fun_!" Dave spins right off of Karkat's rant. "Like goddamn, I don't know if it could have gotten any _more_ tropey unless like one of us had been a repressed gay kid who had come to terms with our sexuality in the five years we didn't see each other!"

He gives Karkat's hand a tight squeezing as Karkat says _affianced_ , his chest tight as he grins at nothing in particular.

“Maybe that’s why the universe stuck up two big middle fingers at us, our story wasn’t juicy enough for their angsty tragic gay love story!” Karkat retorts.

Talking with one hand isn’t enough so the hand Dave is holding keeps jumping up to join his other but Karkat still doesn’t let go of Dave’s hand. So Dave’s arm keeps kind of just...swinging forward as Karkat goes the fuck off on the universe and fate and destiny and the bullshit cards that every gay romance seems to get dealt.

This goes on for some time until Karkat trails off when the Centennial Wheel comes into sight. Which means he was rambling for at least a good fifteen or twenty minutes, basically subjecting Dave to a fucking soliloquy about his grievances with all the things wrong with the treatment of the LGBTQ+ in storytelling, which started off just covering the romance genre but quickly veered off into covering all aspects of media.

“O-oh look great we’re here,” Karkat says in a rush, feeling his cheeks burning. Dave is gonna think he is such a windbag.

Dave feels like a kid all over again, walking with their arms swinging and just listening to Karkat rant, interjecting every now and again to show he's still listening. He hadn't been joking when he said he loves to listen to Karkat rant- Karkat's so fucking _passionate_ that it makes Dave practically _envious_. He's got enough feeling and desire to be able to talk about things at length and Dave loves it, loves to hear it.

Hell, Karkat could read pages from a _phonebook_ and Dave would be captivated. It's something in the way he talks, the _emotion_ in his voice that holds Dave's attention, not even the contents- but the contents are always _so_ delightfully amusing, too, so that absolutely adds to the experience.

"That we are, baby." Dave said, leaning over and kissing Karkat's red cheek. "I haven't been here before, so you get to show me aaaaall around." He adds with a grin.

“You WHAT?” Karkat cries in disbelief, “Illinois Tech is only like, a ten minute bus ride away from here! How have you never—“ Karkat drags them across the street, “Well, come on!”

The sun went down hours ago, which means it’s the perfect time to come to Navy Pier, which is lit up in all its glory. Karkat pulls them over to a large sign, which shows a map of the entire pier, which is broken into different colour-coded levels. Karkat points to the largest section in the map.

“The RIVA restaurant is on Level E,” he explains. Then he digs into his coat pocket and checks his phone. “But our reservations aren’t for another hour. We’ve got some time to kill, so we can do some exploring.”

Karkat points to a few more spots on the map. “Okay, so we’re obviously right outside Level A, which is basically a tourist extravaganza. Okay, the whole fucking Pier is a tourist trap, let’s be real—but that’s besides the point. Anyway, you’ve got all your tourist classics here. Jimmy Buffet’s Margaritaville, Bubba Gump Shrimp, a whole bunch of retail shops, gift shops...so unless you want a set of shot glasses with the Chicago skyline or some fucking coasters with the Centennial Wheel on them, I’d say we start elsewhere. What’s jumping out at you? Crystal Gardens? Pier Park? It’s your first time, so where do you want to check out first?”

Dave chuckles at Karkat's incredulous cry and lets Karkat drag him over to the map.

He guesses it's a little weird that he's never been here before, but, eh, he's just... never really had anyone to hang out with who suggested coming over? Wow that makes him sound like a sad sack of shit.

Which... okay, yeah, not actually that unfair of an assessment. Whatever.

He listens to Karkat list off a whole _number_ of things all at once, most of them going in one ear and out the other, but he studies the map as Karkat points the spots out all the same.

"Crystal Gardens sound dope as fuck." Dave decides. "Sweep me off my feet and carry me off to this magical land, O fiancé of mine." He grins at the words.

Wow. That still doesn't feel real.

Karkat grins, and gets on his toes so he can press a kiss to Dave’s lips.

Yeah. Cancelling their game was the best idea they’d had all day. Not being able to kiss Dave whenever he wants during their fucking _date_? What a dipshit idea.


	9. Chapter 9

Karkat leads them into the building and they make their way to the gardens. The Crystal Gardens are on level B, so they have to get through all the retail shops and the food court area of level A first. But Dave’s never seen any of it before, so Karkat’s fine with wading through the touristy bullshit, if it means Dave will have fun.

Karkat pulls off his hat when they get inside the building and shoves it into his coat pocket. He pulls his one glove off with his teeth and tucks that away into his pocket, too. Then unzips his coat. All without letting go of Dave’s hand, because that isn’t happening any time soon.

They walk through the shops area, pointing things out here and there, weaving through the tourists. Karkat is usually annoyed by these bustling, crowded spaces. But Dave is here. Dave is holding his hand. Dave is making a joke and Karkat is throwing his head back and laughing, really _laughing_ , he didn’t known he’d ever be able to do that again. Dave was the only one who could ever pull it out of him.

They reach the second level and go inside the gardens, and finally, it’s quiet. There’s a couple people wondering about in here, but it’s still a far cry from the noise of the retail area. It’s like being around this many plants is akin to stepping into a church. So people are just quietly walking around, barely even chatting under their breath while they look around at all the foliage and greenery.

It’s _warm_ in here, too, which Karkat is sure Dave will appreciate. They walk around the room, quietly checking out the plants. You could practically here a pin drop in here. Karkat thinks back to his long-winded tirade during their walk here, and feels his ears burning from the lingering embarrassment.

Time to get Dave to ramble.

“Hey,” Karkat murmurs, slipping his arm through Dave’s again, “so was it just my eyes you liked about me, or...was there some other stuff too?”

Dave also stuffs his hat and glove away, doing the cool anime thing where he pulls it off with his teeth and giving Karkat a waggle of his brows as he does so.

Holy shit, he's wearing Karkat's coat. Just remembering that makes his heart squeeze. The bustling of the crowd is annoying, but Dave sticks close to Karkat (easy with their hands still twined- Dave wonders absentmindedly if he can pull a 'friendship bracelet' and cuff them together).

The gardens, though- holy shit.

Yeah. Dave just found his new favorite place.

It's warm, it's quiet, it's beautiful- It's like a fucking dream, in the middle of the city, that there's this peaceful, serene place

"Holy shit." Dave whispers as they start drifting through the plants. He blinks a little as Karkat gets his attention, tilting his head slightly.

"Karkat, there are _so many things_ I love about you." Dave says, his voice hushed. It just feels... right, in this serene place. "You want to find somewhere to sit and I'll tell you everything I can think of?"

Karkat’s chest feels like it’s full of cotton candy. He feels light and sweet and fluffy the moment they walk into the gardens and he sees Dave’s reaction as they walk through the room.

Oh yeah. He’s definitely bringing Dave back here all the time.

His heartbeat kicks up at Dave’s suggestion to sit and just...sit there and listen to Dave talk about all the things he likes about Karkat?? Holy shit.

But his heart _swells_ at the thought of getting to sit here with Dave, in this quiet, warm place and just talk in quiet whispers about each other.

“S-sure,” Karkat murmurs, and he curses himself for not being able to keep the tremor out of his voice. (Damn it, damn it, damn it.)

They walk over to a nearby beach and sit down.

It’s so warm in here, Karkat has to strip off his coat. He places it beside him on the bench. Looking around at the large plants in this bright, warm place, with Dave sitting at his side, his hand on his thigh...

It feels like they could be sitting in a park back in Texas in the middle of summer.

Karkat traces a pattern on the back of Dave’s hand on his thigh. He can feel his face is on fucking _fire_ now, and he couldn’t speak even if he tried. Especially not to ask Dave to say a bunch of nice things about him.

So Karkat just stares down at the concrete floor, not even looking at the incredible foliage around them, drawing idle patterns into the soft skin on the back of Dave’s hand as red bleeds across his face.

They find a place to sit and Dave watches the plants, shucking his jacket off after a moment, and scooting over to drop his hand on Karkat's thigh, pressing close against him.

"The first thing I noticed about you," Dave says, casting his mind back to their early days, "is how _stubborn_ you were. You never backed down from anything." He laughs a little, squeezing Karkat's thigh.

"Always so convinced you were in the right and you would refuse to let anyone try and pull one over on you." He says. "I was jealous, really. Oh, I hid it because that's what you do when you're cool- you don't let anything get to you- but watching you dig your heels in and demand things be different- I got kinda jealous. People listened to you when you shouted."

He shrugs a little. "I wanted that, but I couldn't have it."

He remembers young Karkat folding his arms and stomping his foot and literally refusing to move on more than one occasion when he thought something was unfair, going so far as to insult the teachers. Dave had been _shocked_ that Karkat dared to speak back to people in charge- and jealous when it actually _did_ things.

Karkat’s eyes go wide as Dave starts to speak.

He’d been expecting some more sappy, over-the-top romantic lines like how his eyes were like lipid pools, or something. Karkat wasn’t expecting Dave to talk about how he thought Karkat was _stubborn_ , especially not in a way that made it seem so endearing.

Karkat was just a loudmouthed asshole who had grown up with _Kankri_ as an older brother, who might actually be the only person on the planet who can beat Karkat in a long-winded and passionate argument. Karkat learned from the best of the worst.

“I just figured if I _didn’t_ shout, people wouldn’t listen to me,” Karkat says, “Kankri only raises his voice if someone tries to touch him or whatever. Otherwise he just talks slow, in this monotone, soft voice. And nobody could get through anything he was saying. I sure as hell couldn’t. So I figured, if I’ve got a point to make, better say it fast and loud so my point gets out there and everyone hears it whether they fuckin’ liked it or not.”

It was just the way he was, and there was nothing he could do about it. And it’s not that he particularly disliked that part of himself but...

It’s hard, growing up with that constant fear that if nobody can hear you, you’ll be left behind. To be so scared all the time of being alone, of getting abandoned.

“I was jealous of _you_ ,” Karkat murmurs, “you were so...brave. And you acted like it was nothing. It just seemed like nothing ever got to you, when everything got to me. I know now you were just better at hiding shit than I was, but...I don’t know. It wasn’t even the fact you could brush things off so easily it was...well it was this one particular moment actually.”

Karkat leans back on the bench. “So, we weren’t even friends yet. We were only maybe...nine, maybe ten years old. And we played with a lot of the same kids in the neighbourhood together. And a bunch of us were playing in the woods together, and we found this...we found this fox kit, trapped.”

“It must have fallen down the steep hill nearby or something, but it was crying out for help and we were all wondering what the noise was, and then we find it, and it’s—it’s trapped under a bunch of rocks, just half of it’s body poking out. And we all _scrambled_ to get the rocks off this thing, but...when we got the rocks off, we saw the _blood_. And the girls in the group screamed and start crying and _I’m_ fucking crying because I was a big damn coward. But you just...you just picked that little, broken baby fox out of the rocks and it’s own puddle of blood. And it fucking bit you and you didn’t even flinch. And then you took off your shirt and wrapped it up in it and then looked up at the rest of us. You just calmly told us all that you were taking it to get help.”

Karkat traces his index finger along the side of Dave’s hand.

“It bit you right here, remember? And it fucking got you good too, it was so scared and in full defense mood so it bit down hard. Your hand bled all over your shirt and I couldn’t tell what was the kit’s blood and what was yours. None of the other kids went with us to the walk to the vet, they were too scared. But—but I was worried about the kit, I wanted to make sure it would be okay. And your hand was bleeding so much I wanted to be sure _you_ were okay, too.”

Karkat sighs softly, and the idle patterns he draws on Dave’s hand go still.

“Then you just stopped walking all of a sudden.” Karkat says, “you looked at me and told me that you think it had died. And so we opened up your shirt and sure enough, the kit wasn’t breathing anymore. So of course I start fucking crying again and I feel like _such_ a loser because you hadn’t shed a tear and you were being so calm about it, just trying to help, and all I could do was follow you along and cry like a baby.” Karkat shakes his head at the memory, the old shame washing back over him like cold water.

“Then you asked me if I wanted to help you bury it, so we took it back into the woods and—and we buried it in your bloodstained shirt. All you said was, ‘sorry I couldn’t do more, little guy’, then you turned and walked out of the woods.” Karkat realizes he’d closed his eyes at some point during the story, and opens them again. “Then we just walked home together in silence—well, you were quiet. I was still trying to stop crying. And then we got to my house and you just said, ‘thanks for your help’ and walked away. Even though I didn’t even do anything but fucking cry. All I could think about was how you were _so_ brave, and I wished I had half as much of it as you.”

Dave listens quietly as Karkat talks.

Karkat? Jealous of _him_?

It almost doesn't seem... plausible. Yeah, Dave knows now that as a kid he had created a persona to deal with... well, literally _everything_ in his life. It was pretty much the only thing keeping him together, the mask to cling to, because it was something solid he could use to ground himself with.

It was a set of rules that, if he followed, meant he wouldn't be hurt. Or rather, hurt as _much_. Cool kids don't cry. Cool kids always wear their shades. Cool kids don't raise their voice. Cool kids do what they're told, but only if it's something Bro would approve of, because he's the Ultimate Authority of Cool. Cool kids try harder. Cool kids get up every time. Cool kids tend to their own wounds. Cool kids don't let others see them hurt. Cool kids don't bring anyone unCool home. Cool kids eat what they're given. Cool kids don't ask for things. Cool kids stay out of the way. Cool kids remember everything. Cool kids don’t bother Bro. Cool kids look at people when they talk. Cool kids don’t act weird. Cool kids aren’t annoying. Cool kids don’t bounce. Cool kids don’t fidget. Cool kids don’t fiddle. Cool kids answer when spoken to. Cool kids don’t show sadness. Cool kids don’t get angry. Cool kids don’t backtalk. Cool kids accept their punishments. Cool kids don’t tell anyone about the rules of Cool. Cool kids don’t draw attention to themselves. Cool kids don’t beg. Cool kids don’t get mad. Cool kids know their place.

Yeah. Looking back at it know, it was a big fucking fucked jumble of rules and orders Bro instilled in his head. It took literally an entire year to start breaking himself of some of those habits once he was out of California. He’s still got too many of them wrapped up inside his head, but- the worst of them are… well, not _gone_ because sometimes he just tugs that mask back on and doesn’t worry about anything, but they’re quieter. Not iron bands anymore.

But he looks back and he sees how, to another kid, it made him the coolest fucking kid in the world even though he really was just a massive _wreck_ barely holding it together. He was a kid clinging to the edge of a ten story drop who didn’t even know he was in danger, but to everyone else he was a smooth talking, unflappable, funny guy who was good at remembering everyone and was super chill.

Hearing Karkat talk about the fox kit- Dave _remembers_ that. Remembers the hollow ache in his chest that he refused to acknowledge, remembered the sting of the bite- which, honestly, hadn’t been anywhere near Bro’s ‘training’- and the screaming of everyone else. He remembers looking at everyone and thinking _’Well, they’re of no help’_ and leaving and Karkat… Karkat, crying and sniffling, came along.

Dave hadn’t understood it. Hadn’t gotten why Karkat was coming along when he was crying, but Karkat’s presence there had given him enough strength to keep walking forwards, putting one foot in front of another. It was like Karkat was crying all the tears in Dave’s chest that Dave couldn’t let out, filling up that hollow space with water and making Dave less empty.

Dave’s pretty sure that if Karkat hadn’t been there, he would have broken down when he was burying it, and then his face would have been tearstained and Bro would have seen it and beat his ass for breaking a rule. Karkat did all the crying for him.

Dave abruptly realizes he has no idea how to explain all of this. He tries his best anyway, turning his hand over to twine his fingers with Karkat’s.

“I remember that.” He says quietly. “I remember everyone screaming and freaking out and picking up the kit and even though you were crying, you were still the only one strong enough to come with me. I couldn’t understand it, how you could be doing both- be crying and not be paralyzed with fear over being _seen_ crying.”

He squeezes Karkat’s hand.

“Just having you there with me was enough that I could keep walking, and when it died- I was so numb. I was sure I would start crying, but it was like all of my tears were… being siphoned by you.” He shakes his head with a sad chuckle. “Which was a good thing. If I had come home looking like I had been crying… Bro would have beat the shit out of me for it.”

“So just having you there- it was like you were doing all the crying for me, so I could keep my everything in check. And I was so jealous that you could just cry so easily without worry, and I wanted to do it too- but I wasn't able to, wasn't _allowed_ to. So when you cried, it was almost like you were keeping me safe. You were mourning for me.”

Dave trails off, feeling his cheeks go hot. Wow. That was.. really embarrassing to say, actually.

Dave is quiet for a several minutes after Karkat finishes his story, and Karkat spends the whole three minutes wondering if he’d crossed a line. Maybe Dave didn’t like being called brave? Karkat thinks about Dave’s upbringing with his brother, which he still knows very, very little about but he—he can assume. And Dave was probably so brave not because it just came so easy to him, but because he _had_ to be. Karkat suppresses the urge to grimace. He was such an idiot, what the hell was he thinking, telling Dave all that when he—

Karkat’s thoughts go quiet as Dave turns over their hands and intertwines their fingers, and starts to speak.

Dave thinks he’s _strong_ for coming with him that day? Strong for being _seen_ crying?

Dave squeezes his hand as Karkat’s brow furrows. He didn’t even consider that Dave was trying not to cry back then. He truly thought that Dave was just so cool and brave that he just wasn’t going to cry about it. But Dave was _scared_ of being seen crying?

Dave keeps talking, and the more he does, the more Karkat finally understands. And suddenly he’s looking back on that day in a whole new light, like someone finally took the filter off. They were both jealous of the other for being able to do what they couldn’t.

And Karkat’s presence—that’s why Dave had thanked him for his help? Karkat had been so confused, wondering what the hell he could have possibly done to help, other than helping dig up a small hole for the dead fox kit. He cried so that Dave wouldn’t have to. Dave said he kept him _safe_.

If Karkat had just gone home with all the other scared kids that day, Dave would have went off by himself...and maybe once he was alone, he’d allow himself to cry behind his shades. Maybe once the kit died and he had to bury it himself, he would have broken down. Then he would have gone home. And Bro would—Karkat can’t even think about it.

He knows there were many times he couldn’t have protected Dave. He didn’t even know he was doing it then.

Karkat leans his head on Dave’s shoulder.

He’s so glad he was able to protect Dave from his Bro, even if it was just once.

“Thanks for telling me,” he murmurs.

He’s sure it wasn’t an easy thing for Dave to admit. Karkat turns his head and kisses Dave on the shoulder, smiling a little because now that Dave’s not wearing that thick coat, he’ll be able to feel this one.

Karkat's little kiss on his shoulder makes his heart skip a beat, so Dave turns his head and plants a kiss right on top of Karkat's head.

"That's another thing." He says. "You're always so quick to express your feelings. Happy, sad, angry- it's always so open. You say _thank you_ genuinely and _I'm sorry_ so easily-"

Dave shakes his head a bit, huffing softly.

"Trying to get me to apologize as a kid was like _pulling teeth_." Dave says, amused, but also with a touch of sadness. "I just never could seem to do it- cause for some reason if I apologized, I would start crying. So I would deflect and try to push blame and refuse to admit I did anything wrong."

He shakes his head. "I _still_ don't know what the fuck was up with that- " He shrugs a little. "But you were always so quick to say sorry when it mattered, you were just so... _open_ about everything."

Karkat smiles when Dave kisses the top of his head, but then his brow furrows slightly again as Dave continues.

He’s confused at first when he mentions being unable to apologize without crying. That phrase seemed backwards.

“Lots of people apologize when they cry, Dave,” Karkat explains, “it’s just an automatic reaction to say ‘I’m sorry’ when you’re crying in front of someone because it’s so vulnerable, and you feel guilty because now that person feels obligated to comfort you. So it feels like you’re being an inconvenience, so you say ‘sorry’...”

But Karkat plays the words back that Dave said in his head a few times, and his explanation trails off.

“Wait. You didn’t apologize _for_ crying...it was the other way around? If you started to apologize about anything, _then_ you’d cry?” Karkat sits up now to look at Dave properly.

Still holding Dave’s hand, he gives it a small squeeze. Crying because he’s saying sorry? What the hell would cause such an adverse reaction? Karkat opens his mouth to say something but he doesn’t know what. He doesn’t want to make Dave feel bad, or that he’s _wrong_. Whatever caused him to react that way, it wasn’t his fault. Karkat’s brow pulls into a deeper line of concern. This had to be about Bro, right?

Karkat reaches up with his free hand, and cups the side of Dave’s neck, starting to rub the side of his thumb up and down the soft skin there. He still has no idea what to ask or what to say, so he just continues the gentle touch.

Dave is a little surprised when Karkat cups his cheek, the rub of his thumb a gentle, reassuring touch. Karkat's expression is... really concerned. Like, _I am worried that you are not okay_ kind of worried.

"I.. yeah?" Dave says. "I dunno, it's not really that big of a deal, I guess. It was just... a thing. A behavior I had. I have no idea what was up with that, I don't really... do it anymore?"

He kinda wishes he hadn't brought it up. He feels like things are about to get hella awkward as Karkat realizes that hey, yeah, maybe Dave is pretty fucking broken. Like, shit, Dave knows he's a jagged mess of broken glass puzzle pieces taped together with cellophane but he thought he'd been doing a pretty good job so far of at least _looking_ whole.

Dave looks uneasy now. Maybe Karkat being concerned about this isn’t the right approach? Shit, he’s fucking things up again.

Dave says it was just a thing he did, that he doesn’t even really know why...maybe it didn’t have anything to do with Bro, after all? Maybe Karkat was just leaping to conclusions, and getting overprotective.

He and Dave obviously came from different households and upbringings. And their brains weren’t wired the same, and that was a fact right from birth that had nothing to do with what a piece of shit Bro was. Maybe Dave would understand his own behaviors better if Bro had given enough of a shit to work through them with him.

Karkat slides his hand down Dave’s neck and onto his shoulder, then gives it a small pat.

“Right. Yeah, of course.” Karkat says, “Sorry, man. Sorry, I didn’t mean for that to come off like its wrong or anything. That was pretty fucking obtuse of me.”

He turns forwards again on the bench so he’s back to looking at the plants, and bumps his shoulder against Dave’s.

“Shit like that is different for everyone,” Karkat goes on, “I don’t think apologizing is easy for anyone to do. It’s hard to admit when we’re wrong about something. Like, remember when I told you about when Jade posted those songs and I got super mad at her? Well, I felt like shit about it right away, and the only reason I ignored her for like a week was because I just felt like the biggest asshole on the planet. And as much as I wanted to tell her sorry, I just couldn’t. She was my _best fucking friend,_ but I was too ashamed to tell her how sorry I was. But as soon as she showed up at my door it all just fell out of me.”

Karkat keeps their hands intertwined but flips them over so Dave’s hand is on top, and Karkat goes back to tracing patterns with his index finger.

“Anyway. Yeah. We all have our shit. Sorry if I upset you, I just got worried there for a second and, uh—I get a little overprotective when it comes to you, so...yeah. Sorry.”

Karkat apologizes and Dave feels kinda bad about it. Nice job you wingding, making your b- your _fiancé_ uncomfortable.

But- god. Why is Karkat so good at just _talking_ about things? He can say in five sentences what it probably would take Dave _fifteen_ to get even anywhere near close.

Problem? No problem anymore after Karkat talked for two fucking minutes.

Yeah. Dave's jealous of _that_ ability. Fucking Strider inability to be honest with feelings and translate that into understandable words.

Okay, that's not a Strider thing, because Bro barely fucking talks- _talked_ more than three sentences at a time. That's just a Dave thing.

"It's alright." Dave says, shrugging a little, but he can't deny the flutter in his belly at the knowledge that Karkat is _protective_ of him.

Actually...

He gives Karkat a little grin, leaning in and kissing his cheek. "Kinda like that, actually." He murmurs. "You being overprotective. Makes me think that you just want to tie me to your bed and never let me go anywhere."

Mm. What an idea. Yes, this is _much_ better than the uncomfortable topic they were just discussing.

If they were still playing their game from earlier, Karkat may have taken that bait. Snatched it right up and rolled with it, watching Dave squirm on the bench as he quietly told him about all the things he would do if he had Dave tied up and at his mercy.

It’s really, really tempting.

But, they’re not playing the game right now. And what parts of the day haven’t been spent having intense conversations about their past five years and everything that happened to them, was spent having an _asinine_ amount of sex. To the point that two twenty-two-year-old healthy young men couldn’t even get it up anymore, no matter how much they tried.

There goes the universe, once again, giving them a message. _Hey dummies, maybe get each other’s dicks out of your mouths for two seconds and_ ** _talk_** _._

Karkat wants to spit back, _Fuck you, we_ ** _did_** _talk. And we’re_ ** _fine_** _. We’re going to_ ** _be_** _fine._

But yeah, sure, it’s easy to just talk about how much you want to fuck your fiancé. That’s the easy part.

The hard part is pretty much everything else.

And when you’ve spent five whole years apart and create a chasm you know you can’t fill, you know you can only build a bridge so you can meet each other on the other side...you still have to maintain the bridge. Make sure the ropes are sturdy, that the wood doesn’t rot through. If they didn’t, one day the bridge would break. Maybe they could just keep building a new one, keep trying to make it work again and again and again. But a relationship built on the foundation of a rickety wooden bridge wasn’t one that Karkat wanted. It wasn’t one that Dave deserved.

Karkat wanted to be with Dave forever, and for that to happen, the bridge needed to be made of iron and stone. Or fucking _diamond_. Indestructible and beautiful.

That wasn’t going to be easy. But Dave was worth it. He always had been.

“Dave,” Karkat says, keeping his voice soft. This doesn’t need to be intense. It be, or it’ll spook Dave.

Karkat looks over at Dave and gives him a warm smile. “You’re deflecting again, babe,” he says, squeezing Dave’s hand. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right? You don’t need to run away.”

Dave grins a little as he thinks about the idea, but Karkat doesn't respond like he's expecting, with a laugh or a kiss or nice laundry list of teasing words.

No, Karkat calls him _babe_ and points out gently how he's deflecting and looks at him with a soft, warm smile.

Dave's brain short circuits for a moment. You know those scenes in cartoons where it zooms into someone's brain and there's like, a dozen little versions of that character running around with everything on fire? Yeah, Dave's head feels a little bit like that, thoughts running around in circles because _what the fuck._

No one's ever like. Done that. Maybe he shouldn't be surprised because it's _Karkat_ , but no one's ever cared enough to point out that he was... avoiding a problem.

He legit, straight up, honest to god, has no idea what to say.

"Uh." He says, eloquently. He glances away, biting his lip for a moment before letting it go with a smack. "Am I?" That's fucking stupid, Dave, don't say that.

"I mean, yeah, I guess? I dunno, I guess I'm not. Not really sure what else there is to say on the matter. It's like a neat stack of paperwork that needs to get signed in triplicate only it was for something super boring like ordering new pencils for the office and it didn't get done and was shoved in a filing cabinet for years until someone found it, but by then the office had moved on to using pens so it wasn't really relevant anymore? As paperwork?" Dave rambles.

“Dave, Dave,” Karkat tries, quietly at first, to get Dave’s attention as he goes off on a tangent, _“Dave_.”

He claps his palm on Dave’s cheek, and the ‘office paperwork’ ramble comes to a stop. Karkat keeps smiling, rubbing his thumb along Dave’s cheekbone. “Hey, slow down. It’s fine. If it’s no big deal, then I’ll drop it. Or if it _is_ a big deal and you just don’t wanna talk about that kind of shit right now while we’re on a date, that’s cool, too. Really. I just wanted you to know that—that nothing is ever off the table with me, you know? You can talk to me, D.”

Dave looks like a deer caught in headlights. Karkat’s heart aches. Nobody has ever said any of this to him before, had they? Not even Karkat himself. Not when he was a stupid teenager.

“I told you before, I can be patient. If there’s stuff we have to work through, then that’s what we’ll do. It’s just...” Karkat looks away for a moment, searching for the words. Then he bites his lip a bit, his eyes flickering around as his mind races.

Then before he can lose his nerve, Karkat gets off the bench and kneels on his knees in front of Dave. He takes both of Dave’s hands and looks up at him.

“I want to be with you, Dave. I want to marry you,” Karkat says, and for the first time he’s able to get the word _marry_ out without rushing through it or stammering. He says it calm and steady. Because this is a proclamation he has to be steady about. “And that means every part, all the pieces of you, even the ones that you think are damaged goods. Or the parts of you that you haven’t even told me about yet. I want them all. But you gotta let me in, all the way. And I’m not asking for you to do that all at once, but...it does need to happen, okay? We can take it one day at a time, but, I...um...”

Karkat’s starting to lose his nerve now as he becomes aware of how he must look right now, and feels his face getting warm, and not from the cranked heat in the room.

“S-so, yeah...I just wanted you to know that.”

Dave cuts himself off as it finally registers that Karkat's calling his name, moments before Karkat's hand is on his cheek again. He stares, dumbfounded as Karkat just... proceeds to be straight up probably the most reassuring motherfucker on the planet.

Holy shit. When did Karkat get so... so... Dave doesn't even have the _words_ for it. He's simultaneously gentle and firm, not letting Dave get away with bullshit without making Dave feel bad for it.

 _Is_ it a big deal? Dave honestly doesn't know. It doesn't feel like one, but then again, it's also something that he... pretty much deflected about right away. But then again, that's just part of him isn't it? Deflect, deflect, deflect.

No one can hurt what they can't reach. A house of mirrors never lets you see the center.

Dave is going to say something but then Karkat is _sliding off the bench_ and Dave's face is going hot and he knows he's blushing so fucking hard as he looks down at Karkat, who's holding Dave's hands _so fucking gently._

Dave takes back every nasty joke he made about the universe's luck. This is making up for literally everything he's ever gone through, just having Karkat here, right now, looking at him like this. Telling him all these things, so calm and sure of himself, like it's the only thing in the world, like it's as simple as saying that the sky is blue or that water is wet.

Just a fact of the universe.

Nothing escapes a black hole. Light moves at 299792458 metres per second. Karkat Vantas loves Dave Strider.

Dave tugs Karkat up to his feet as he stands up, puts one hand on Karkat's waist and the other behind his head, and kisses him.

What the fuck else is he supposed to do? He can't use _words_ to explain the overwhelming feelings in his chest, he wouldn't come anywhere _near_ close to getting it right.

So instead, he kisses Karkat, soft and gentle and will all the love he can pour into it.

When he pulls back, Dave says softly, “yeah. I want that, Karkat. I want to be with you forever. I want to,” he swallows thickly, “I want to… _trust_ you with all of me. It’s terrifying.”

This is the most raw Dave Strider has even been in his life. The most exposed. He’s putting his entire heart into Karkat’s hands, and with just a single word, Karkat could _shatter_ him.

Dave should be terrified.

He’s not.

He’s never been more sure in his life.

“I want you to know everything. I want to know _you_. I don’t want to hide from you, even the parts I think you’ll hate.” He whispers. “I’ve never wanted a single thing as much as I want _us_ , Karkat. It’s fucking _dizzying_. I don’t know how to handle this, I don’t know how to- to _talk_ about things without just batting them away and- and deflecting but-”

He swallows.

“I want to try. I _want_ to. Because I love you.” He bumps their foreheads together. “Because you’re worth it. You’re worth every fucking bit, and you want _me_.” He chuckles softly. “I would have to be a fucking idiot to give up on that.”

Karkat’s heart is in his throat as he waits for Dave to say something, _anything_ , even if he just cracks a joke to break this weird tension—

Then Dave is standing up, still holding Karkat’s hands, so Karkat has no choice but to go with him, hurriedly getting off his knees and onto his feet. He opens his mouth to say something, but Dave is faster. He puts one hand on Karkat’s waist, the other behind his head, and pulls him in for a kiss.

Karkat retracts his earlier statement. _This_ is the best kiss of his life. Dave was just going to keep climbing the rungs on that ladder, and keep kissing Karkat so good it shattered the record of the last kiss being the best one ever, again and again. And Karkat _can’t wait._

Dave pulls away, and he has barely started to speak yet but as soon as he says he wants to be with Karkat _forever_ , Karkat’s already crying. All he can do is just nod along with everything Dave is saying, his lips in a tight line as he tries to hold back the sobs that want to burst out of his thick throat.

Dave is still wearing his shades but this is still the most _open_ Karkat’s ever seen him. Karkat can’t choke back the sobs anymore once Dave says _I’ve never wanted a single thing as much as I want_ ** _us_** ,—he couldn’t have said it any better, and he’s crying freely now but he can’t stop smiling. His face is wet with tears and he’s grinning as Dave bumps their foreheads together, and he giggles through his tears, sniffling.

‘Ye-ah,” he says wetly, “you really would be.”

Karkat reaches up and gingerly takes each arm of Dave’s shades and pulls them slowly off of his face. He’s never taken them off before. Never even asked permission to do so, or asked Dave to do it. But he does it now, the first test of trust he can think of. Karkat wipes at his own wet eyes as he looks into Dave’s, still smiling brightly.

Then he wraps his arms tightly around Dave’s neck and pulls him down for another kiss.

_I love you. I love you. I’ll never be able to say it enough, I’ll never be able to kiss you enough, to show you just how much._

But it was a start.

Karkat's crying but Dave knows he's not sad- there's just so fucking _much_. Honestly, Dave is surprised that he's not crying too, which how much emotional bullshit he just vomited out over the both of them.

He wants to thumb away Karkat's tears, grinning helplessly back at him, but before he can move to do so, Karkat's hands are on his shades.

Dave's heart stops. Unbidden, a terrifyingly ice-cold spike of fear goes right through his chest.

It doesn't escape his notice that Karkat pauses before starting to slip them off Dave's face. Giving him ample opportunity to stop him, or say something.

But Dave doesn't.

There is no one else in the universe he would trust this much. To take him and make him bare and open and exposed. So Karkat pulls them away slowly and Dave melts the fearful ice in his chest and smiles softly at Karkat before Karkat pulls him into a kiss.

Dave hugs him close, kissing him over and over again. Then for good measure (and because he now knows he's _physically able to_ ) he stoops down, hooks both of his arms under Karkat's ass, and lifts Karkat up so that Karkat is a couple of inches taller from being held up, and tilts his head up to kiss him _more_.

Dave will never have enough. Not ever, not even if they did nothing but lie around and kiss for an entire _decade_.

Dave holds Karkat to him so tightly as he kisses him again and again, Karkat tilting his head and pushing up on his toes to get even closer, to deepen the kiss.

Then Dave shifts, bending over slightly but still not breaking their kiss. Karkat is about to pull away to ask what he’s doing but then Dave is hooking his arms together under Karkat’s ass and he _lifts_ Karkat up until his feet are several inches off the ground.

 _Oh_. Karkat makes a surprised but pleased noise in his throat through their unbroken kiss. Dave can do that... _every_ time he kisses Karkat, and Karkat would not mind one bit.

Dave’s head tilts back, kissing Karkat even deeper at this new angle. Karkat tightens his arms around Dave’s shoulders, never wanting to let go. He wants to stay here in this warm, bright, quiet place kissing Dave forever.

Finally Karkat pulls away, and he’s stopped crying but his lashes still cling together wetly from the tears, his eyes glassy and his face flushed as he smiles down at Dave.

“Y’know, Crystal Gardens are a pretty popular wedding spot,” Karkat says, his smile pulling into a smirk, “Just putting that out there. Never too early to start planning.”

He leans down and presses a few quick, chaste kisses to Dave’s cheeks and mouth. “So, do you just want to makeout on the bench like a couple of teenagers until it’s time for dinner? Or was there anything else you wanted to do?” Karkat asks.

Then he looks down at the floor, almost having forgotten Dave was holding him off of it. “You can put me down now, babe.”

"We should probably wait until we're at least out of college, baby." Dave says on a soft laugh as Karkat presses kisses to his cheeks.

God. _Married_. Probably just a small little ceremony for the two of them, maybe a couple of friends, Karkat's family for sure- like hell would Dave invite anyone from California.

Okay, maybe there would be one or two. But sure as shit not _Bro_.

"Do I have to?" Dave asks, hefting Karkat a tiny bit higher with a grin. "And I am totally fine with whatever levels of PDA you want to indulge in, baby."

Karkat feels his stupid dumb idiotic _moronic_ lovesick heart squeeze when Dave says he doesn’t want to put him down, instead only shifting his grip to hold him up even higher.

There’s a soft heat in Karkat’s cheeks and also in the pit of his stomach as the gesture makes his heart soar, but also turns him on in the _worst_ way. But his dick remains stubbornly unphased.

God. Dave willingly indulging in all this PDA they’ve already been doing an ample, probably highly inappropriate amount of was already more than Karkat would have ever dreamed of getting when they were younger. Dave wouldn’t even flirt with Karkat if they were in a public space.

And now here they are in the middle of Crystal Gardens, like they’re posing for a cover of one of Karkat’s sappiest romance novels.

“As much as I’m thoroughly enjoying getting to kiss you whenever and wherever the hell I want,” Karkat says, “there was one place here in particular I had planned on kissing you that will give us a bit more privacy.”

Dave grins at the shift of expression Karkat's face goes through- flicker of surprise followed by an _exasperated_ fondness, then just to a soft, indulgent expression, sliding into something a little more sly.

"Oh?" Dave tilts his head and shifts his arms a bit. He's actually not that strong and his arms are starting to protest. He should put Karkat down, probably.

"That sounds like a hell of a fun time, baby." Dave says, and lowers Karkat down. Holy shit sweet relief. Dave might be able to lift him, but Karkat is Not Light. He rolls his shoulders once to relax the ache and takes Karkat's hand in his. "Can we dryhump there too?" He teases.

Dave sets Karkat down ( _nooo_ ) and rolls out his shoulders. Karkat squeezes Dave’s upper arms, rubbing his fingers into the muscles to help soothe the strain, giving Dave an apologetic smile. Dave takes his hand and the sorry smile breaks into a grin.

Then he laughs at Dave’s comment, pulling his hand out of Dave’s so he can gather their coats. He shoves Dave’s (actually his!) coat into his arms and then puts his own on. Hadn’t they just been having an incredibly tender moment five seconds ago? And now Dave’s joking about dryhumping.

They start to head for the exit from the gardens and Karkat slinks his arm around Dave’s waist as they walk and pulls the hand-in-back-pocket move again, looking up at Dave with a raised brow.

“Sounds like _somebody_ is gonna be good and ready for me once we get back to my dorm,” Karkat gives Dave a firm squeeze, “you can do _whatever you want_ to me where we’re going. Just have to be creative is all.”

Karkat doesn’t divulge more than that as they leave the gardens, a smug look on his face. They walk out to level C, more commonly known as Pier Park. It leads them back outside, leaving the warmth and the quiet of the gardens behind, and out into the chill and the noise of the amusement park. Just outside the gardens is the swing ride, and to the right is the carousel. But towering over both of these is the biggest ride in the park, and the staple of Navy Pier: the Centennial Ferris Wheel. It’s lit up in gold, the red swinging gondolas glowing in the light.

Karkat leads them around the left of the swing ride and over to the line for the Ferris Wheel. They join the back of the lineup, and Karkat stretches up to kiss the skin just under Dave’s ear.

Then, he whispers right in Dave’s ear, “Think you can work with this, baby?”

Dave pulls his jacket on as Karkat pushes it into his arms, feeling his heart skip a beat at Karkat's pleased laugh. The hand in the pocket trick again- well, now, that was just cheating, especially at the tiny little almost-but-not-quite-squeak that Dave made when Karkat squeezed his ass.

When Karkat leads him towards the amusement part, Dave can't help the craning of his head- he wants to look at _everything_. The only real experience he's had with shit like this is the rodeo Bro took him to once when he was like. Five or something and that was a _very_ different experience to this.

The _ferris wheel_ though... oh Karkat is a _genius_. Dave grins at Karkat's question and murmurs right on back, arm around Karkat's shoulder as they wait in line.

"Absolutely perfect, sweetheart." He purrs right on back. God. He's going to get to spend the entire ride just _blatantly making out with his boyf- with his_ ** _fiance_** and not a single person is going to get to stop him.

He feels downright _giddy_ at the idea as they move through the line, leaning over to nose at Karkat's temple and press kisses to his cheek.

"You really have the best ideas." Dave muses, when they're almost to the front.

Karkat feels a pleased shudder ripple down his back when Dave purrs into his ear, sounding _hungry_.

He keeps making content little hums as Dave nuzzles against him and kisses his cheek. They reach the top of the line and the ticket counter, and Karkat buys two tickets for a single ride. There’s a sign that explains the ride duration takes fifteen minutes, or three full rotations of the wheel.

Perfect.

Karkat hands Dave one of the tickets and as they walk through the ticket gate and wait for their turn to step into the next gondola, Karkat looks up at Dave, his lips pulled into a mischievous smile like they’re up to absolutely no good. Which they absolutely _are_.

“Your lap, or mine?” Karkat asks.

Yes. Fuck. Yes.

Dave grins and rocks on his heels slightly, furiously debating the choices.

"Mine." He says, and when the gondola is available, he pulls Karkat along to settle into the seats on one side, arm around his shoulders and pressing lazy little kisses up his neck.

Dave has the patience to restrain himself juuuuuuuust long enough so that they're not immediately visible to the crowd below, sinks his hands into Karkat's belt loops, and pulls Karkat into his lap.

"Hey, baby." Dave says breathlessly before pulling Karkat down into a fierce, hungry kiss.

Dave eagerly pulls them onto the gondola and onto the bench on one side. As the doors of the gondola close, Dave is already kissing up Karkat’s neck, and _fuck_ , that’s hot—Karkat masks the fact he wants to moan by giggling instead, as if the kisses tickle. And they do, but not in that way.

Dave waits until their gondola has moved up just enough to be out of eyesight from the spectators on the ground below, and then he grabs Karkat by the belt loops and pulls Karkat effortlessly into his lap, and **fuuuck** , that’s _also_ hot—

Then Dave is calling him _baby_ in a breathless, husky voice and pulling Karkat down for a deep and desperate kiss, as if they hadn’t just been kissing like this less than ten minutes ago. That isn’t to say Karkat doesn’t _love_ it, because he does, and he kisses Dave back just as hungrily.

It feels like when they would finally be able to kiss after spending all day at school, or out in public, and then finally coming back to Karkat’s house...as soon as they would get into Karkat’s room they’d be all over each other, kissing one another as though they needed it to breathe.

Karkat moans against Dave’s mouth, rolling his hips in Dave’s lap, relishing in the feeling of grinding against Dave even if neither of them were hard. He just wants to be close in any way he can.

Karkat grabs the hair on the back of Dave’s head and pulls hard, tilting his head back to deepen the kiss, biting at Dave’s bottom lip as he rolls his hips again.

“Should’ve bought more tickets,” Karkat rasps out against their mouths, before quickly diving back in. Fifteen minutes goes by fast, gotta make every second count.

Karkat kisses him back just as hungrily and Dave moans low in his throat at the feeling of it. It feels _good_ to just get to kiss Karkat however he wants without having to worry about-

about _anything_. There's no Bro, no creeping fear of his life falling apart, no pressure-

Well. There's pressure. Pressure of Karkat's mouth on his and that is the _best_ kind of pressure. Dave's brain immediately rickoshays off into the stratosphere digging up a fragment of a song he had heard maybe one time and slamming it into his head, and he would really like to focus here on the face that he is currently making out with his fucking _fiance-_

Oh, _fuck_. Dave's brain short-circuits as Karkat moans and rolls his hips against him and thank fuck that he's sitting because his legs are fucking _weak_. It feels so goddamn good, just getting to rock his hips up against Karkat, hands grabbing at his ass and making them grind together, bracing his heels on the floor.

Fucking hell. He moans as Karkat tugs on his hair and squeezes his ass in response, yanking him in harder, just feeling the _jolt_ that runs down his spine with every roll, his entire body lighting up with a breathless, dry pleasure.

"Baby, baby." Dave gasps, as Karkat all but attacks his mouth. "Wanna fuck you so _bad_." He whines, knowing that it's just not possible right now.

Karkat pulls Dave’s hair again, putting Dave’s already thoroughly abused neck on full display, and he licks and kisses his way up Dave’s throat. He groans softly as Dave squeezes his ass, pressing them together deliciously. Even without a hard-on, the friction is intense and dizzying.

Karkat nips at the delicate patch of skin on Dave’s neck just under Dave’s earlobe, the one place on his neck that probably doesn’t have a mark yet. Time to change that. He sucks the soft skin into his mouth, pinching and rolling it between his teeth and flickering his tongue across it as he grinds against Dave again, hard and slow.

“Can’t wait, baby,” Karkat sighs into Dave’s ear, “can’t wait to get you home so you can fuck me senseless.”

Dave whines helplessly at Karkat's attention on his neck, eyes squeezing shut. He's never going to go a single day without his neck being marked to shit and back and he _loves_ that. He can't stop thinking about how much he's going to touch the marks and jerk off furiously, can't stop thinking about how everyone who sees him will know that he's been _claimed_.

Karkat's hips are grinding so sensually, so firm and slow, and Dave swears he can feel his dick trying to get interested.

"Me too, sweetheart." Dave breathes and brings one hand up to sink it into Karkat's hair to tug his head to the side. Payback time. He latches onto Karkat's neck with a vicious determination to mark Karkat up just as bad.

Dave grasps Karkat’s hair and pulls his head to the side, and Karkat moans loudly as his hair is pulled deliciously tight. Then Dave bites down on his neck and Karkat can’t help but cry out.

“A-aah, _fuck_ yes, Dave—!” Karkat whimpers, grinding his hips even more fervently against Dave’s now.

Fuck. _Fuuuuck_. What was **wrong** with them? They were just supposed to have a little sloppy makeout session, but here they were, not even five minutes into the fifteen minute-long ride, grinding up against each other like a bunch of fucking _horny teenagers._

All of this dry-humping and hair-pulling and neck-biting is really starting to get Karkat’s dick intrigued. It’s like there’s a thick, taut cord in his gut, pulling hard, so much so that it feels like he’s being jabbed with something sharp right in the solar plexus.

He can feel the heat of desire pooling in his stomach, a sure fire sign that his body is responding to this touch, that soon he’ll be ready again for _more_.

Dave keeps working at his neck, moving to a different spot and marking it up. His fingers are still digging into Karkat’s ass, a deep and firm massage that makes Karkat shudder and moan.

“D-Dave, _god_ —mmmmnnn...” Karkat breathes out, then it dissolves into a shaky moan as Dave’s warm, wet mouth travels up his neck.

Karkat grabs the sides of Dave’s face and kisses him hard, still moaning loud between their mouths as he grinds relentlessly against Dave.

He breaks off, gasping for breath, and then he blinks rapidly as he notices they’ve reached the top of the wheel.

 _“Dave_ ,” Karkat gasps, patting Dave on the shoulder, because he’s still kissing up Karkat’s jaw and he doesn’t want him to stop but Dave has to see this. “Dave, _look_.”

Karkat's noises are going to send Dave to an early grave because it is making him _want_ and he _can't have_ right now, and that is **_killing_** him.

But Karkat's grinding and moaning and Dave is pulling him in, wanting _more, more_ , spreading his thighs to give him that tiniest bit more leverage to rock up against Karkat, holding him down as he licks and sucks and marks up his fiance's neck just as bad as Karkat did to him-

And then Karkat's slamming their mouths together and Dave feels like he could _purr_ , devouring Karkat's mouth with tongue and teeth and _hunger_.

When Karkat gasps for air, Dave pants, his hands squeezing at Karkat's hips, diving back in to work at the other side of Karkat's neck.

"What-?" Dave mumbles, but as Karkat demands, he uses a herculean amount of willpower and pulls away from his boyfriend's enticing, warm neck.

Karkat tries to look exasperated but he only manages a crooked smile as he grabs Dave’s chin and turns his head to look out the window.

“We’re at the top,” Karkat explains briefly, letting go of Dave’s chin and letting him take in the view.

They’re nearly 200 feet in the air overlooking Lake Michigan and the Chicago skyline. And Chicago is lit up like a Christmas tree, the warm glowing lights from the city’s skyscrapers making it look like Lake Michigan is filled with glowing jellyfish that bob along its surface.

Karkat really loved Chicago. He loved the architecture, he loved the food, he’d met his closest friend here, and plenty of other great people too.

And now it was always going to be the city where he found Dave.

He’s never been more glad he left Houston than he is right now.

The gondola continues to move and they start to descend back down, the glowing skyline and the glittering water slowly fading from view. Karkat looks over at Dave with a smile.

“Well? Worth the $12 bucks per ticket, right?”

Karkat directs his attention and Dave... stares.

Yeah, in Austin, they had an apartment that got them access to the roof. And sure, it was tall enough that he could see a neat little chunk of the city around them.

But it wasn't anything like... _this_. Gleaming and glittering and beautiful. Lights sparkling as far as he can see, dark and beautiful and _serene_. Austin was never peaceful, not like this. Oh, it would get quieter at night, of course, but it was always still... noisy. Doing things.

Up here, it's like the world is holding it's breath.

Without thinking about it, gaze locked on the view, Dave's hand finds Karkat's and gives it a squeeze.

"Definitely worth it." He says softly.

“But, you know,” Karkat murmurs, using his free hand to push Dave’s chin with the tip of his index finger, so he’s looking back at Karkat again. “I like this view better.”

Karkat leans down and kisses Dave softly, a gentle press the polar opposite to the hot, hungry kiss they had just been sharing.

He runs his hand up Dave’s face and into his hair, pulling him closer to deepen the kiss.

Karkat's pulling his attention and kissing Dave so sweet and soft and gentle and Dave sighs softly into it.

His arms wrap around Karkat, slipping under his jacket so he could hold his body as close as he can, but there's no frantic heat this time, just a yearning to be as close as possible.

"Hey." Dave whispers against Karkat's mouth, pressing kiss after kiss to his mouth. "Hey Karkat. Guess what."

He grins sappily.

"We're gonna get _married_."

Karkat chuckles breathily, and bumps his forehead against Dave’s. “No matter how many times either one of us says that word, it still doesn’t feel real,” Karkat says, “This whole _day_ doesn’t feel real. When we went back to your place and uh, _reunited_ ,” Karkat looks sheepish, “I was _convinced_ that I was dreaming. That it was just another one of my stupid, vivid dreams where you’re back and you want me back and everything’s okay again. I was so certain I was going to wake up and be back in my dorm, late for class.”

Karkat shakes his head, snickering at himself.

“And honestly? I’m still processing it. This day has been so crazy and perfect and exhausting—the best fucking day of my life. But every time I had to leave the room, I was—I was horrified I would come back and find you weren’t there. That I’d just imagined the entire thing.”

Karkat’s squeezes Dave’s hand. “It’s like I have to keep touching you just to make sure you’re still real.”

Dave laughs quietly. "You think this day is crazy for _you_?" He asks. "Think about it from _my_ side." He squeezes Karkat's hand right on back, leaning up to steal another kiss.

"Five years, knowing- or at least _thinking_ I knew- that the only boy I had ever really loved hates me." Dave says quietly. "And then in a single day, not only does he _not_ hate me, he actually still loves me quite a lot, so much, in fact, that we start dating again like we never even stopped, and then all of a sudden he's saying _'the rest of my life'_ like I didn't just put him through five years of awful, terrible hell, and I just get to say _yes_ -"

Dave squeezes Karkat's hand again.

"It's like every Christmas, birthday, New Years, Halloween- you get it, it's like every single holiday miracle rolled into one." He says softly.

“I thought _you_ hated me!” Karkat said incredulously, “I spent those five years wondering what I did, I was so fucking _gutted_ at the thought I had hurt you so much you couldn’t even tell me what I did—“ Karkat exhales softly, and shakes his head, “And I just couldn’t find you anywhere, and eventually I had to...let you go. Convince myself I was never going to see you again and try to move on. But then, out of fucking nowhere, _there you were.”_

Karkat’s fingers stroke through Dave’s hair, his other hand gripping Dave’s hand in a vice grip.

“And I _wanted_ to be angry. Because that seemed like the most logical emotion. You broke my heart, you were my ex, so obviously that means I gotta be angry. I should hate you. But I couldn’t—couldn’t even _insult_ you properly. Which is kind of my whole deal. I should have had an _onslaught_ of verbal abuse to throw at you, but...it was like whenever I tried, it was just like dry heaving. Forced, nothing coming up.”

Karkat’s looking over Dave’s shoulder now, staring at the view of the lake, “It was harder to try to be angry. As soon as I saw you shivering in the cold, I wanted to get you warm. As soon as I saw you crying in front of me for the very first time, I wanted to make it stop. I could never hate you, I didn’t have the capacity to.”

Karkat leans down and kisses Dave on the forehead.

“You’re the love of my life. You always have been, for as long as I can remember. I loved you before I even understood that I did. Didn’t even acknowledge my crush until I was thirteen or so, but...I’m pretty sure I loved you right away. It’s why I stuck to you like glue ever since we were kids, I just wanted to be around you all the time. Loving you was always the easy part. So of course when you dropped back into my life it was just—automatic. Like, _oh, there you are. Took you long enough. Wanna get married?”_

Karkat peppers kisses down Dave’s nose and then onto his lips.

Dave listens to Karkat talk, a soft, sad expression on his face, other hand sliding to settle on Karkat's hip again, just resting gently. Hopefully a reassuring weight.

His fingers do hurt a bit from Karkat's grip. He's not about to say that though. Dave does have some tact.

_Loving you was always the easy part._

Dave's eyes burn.

"Yeah." He croaks as Karkat presses kisses across his face. "I know what you mean." He tilts his head to meet Karkat's kiss.

God. How can Karkat always just say things that are- well, not in Dave's head, but things that just ring so _truthfully_ , curl up in the back of Dave's mind like little beanbag snakes, pretty and perfect to look at and touch and remember. Perfect little mementos. Dave just knows he's going to be remembering these words, jotting them down somewhere- keeping them forever, tucked into his glass jar of a heart.

"I love you so much, Karkat." Dave whispers. "I don't think I'll ever be able to say it enough- I just-" He kisses Karkat again.

"I love you." Dave says again. "I don't think I've ever really wanted anyone else- you were always the one. The first. The- the _only_." He gives Karkat a soft little smile.

Karkat keeps pressing small, soft kisses to Dave’s lips, unable to keep the smile from his face.

“Me too,” he says, leaning back a little, “guess it’s true what they say about how you never forget your first. I never did. Every dumb hookup, every online date, every attempt at a relationship, whatever...it all meant nothing. I couldn’t get you out of my head. Those relationships would only ever last, like...maybe six months, at the longest. It just felt like trying to fill a void, but that void was a shape they would never be able to fill. And it wasn’t fair to them to keep leading them along, so I always left first. If I’m being honest, looking back on it now I think I always felt like I was cheating on you. Even though you dumped me, it just felt...wrong. It wasn’t you, so it wasn’t right. Christ, most of the time I...” Karkat closes his eyes and shakes his head with a grimace, _“Every_ time. With every single person I was with I just...zoned out. Let my brain go somewhere else. And I put you in their place. Pretty sure I came close to calling a few by your name more times than I’d care to fucking admit.”

Dave's heart does a funny little lurch as he listens to Karkat talk about his relationship attempts, but he just lets out a soft, commiserating huff of amusement.

"Yeah." He says. "I'd uh, tell you about my own tries, but there weren't really a lot, and anything I _could_ tell you about would probably get you pissed off beyond belief and I would prefer not to lose our dinner spots."

The very least of which being the one time he called the wrong name, Damara caned the shit out of his feet. Yeah. He hadn't made that mistake again.

"But... I guess it all worked out, so." Dave puts his other hand over Karkat's and smiles at him.

When Karkat laughs, it’s _dark_. “The kind of pissed off where I get on the next flight to California?” he mutters, “Yeah, might want to save those conversations for later. I know I told you to let me in and shit, but I’m also looking forward to dinner and would hate to have to bail because some motherfuckers were long overdue for getting their heads caved in.”

Karkat leans in and kisses Dave lightly on the cheek. “You know, we kept getting sidetracked when you were telling me about all those things you liked about me. Why don’t you get back to your list, help me get the mental image of me slamming your dickhead brother’s nose into the corner of a pool table out of my head?”

Dave huffs a laugh and glances over. "Here, scooch off my lap, babe." They're getting close to the ground, and as much as he loves PDA, it's PDA just for- for them?

Is that still PDA? Hm. Food for thought.

He can't deny how... _nice_ it is, to hear Karkat get pissed over his brother and Damara.

Like, yeah. Haha. Wow. There is a whole ass person who _gives a shit._ That's fucking novel. And not just in the casual 'You're my friend and I care about how fucked up you are, dude' friendship care, the 'I am going to go hunt down your Bro with a baseball bat' kind of care.

It's nice.

"Don't worry, Karkat." Dave says with a grin. "I will tell you _all_ about everything else I like about you. Are you ready to have your next week taken up exclusively by me talking."

Karkat could honestly use the pleasant distraction all of a sudden. The look on Dave’s face, the way his voice went up a whole two octaves as he brought up his past, even in a roundabout way that didn’t give any detail at all...

Karkat’s blood is already boiling and Dave hasn’t told him about any of it yet.

He slides off Dave’s lap (albeit a bit reluctantly) and sits next to Dave, automatically resting his head on Dave’s shoulder. He closes his eyes and inhales, deep and slow. Counts backwards from ten, and lets the anger burning through his veins leak out of him in slow stages.

“Alright, I’m all ears.” Karkat says, his eyes still closed.

He can still hear the sickening crunch of a nose connecting with wood, and see the gush of blood. It splatters across the billiard cloth, the white cue ball gets sprayed with red, making it look like a jawbreaker.

Karkat opens his eyes and the images are gone. “Time to subject Karkat to hearing nice things about himself and watch him chew off his own tongue trying not to interrupt.”

Dave gives a little huff of a laugh. "Well, that's something to start with." He teases. "Your tongue- don't look at me like that, your kissing is _incredible_ but I meant your tongue's skill-"

He pauses.

"That's not any better." He decides. "Whatever. The point I'm _getting_ at is that you're so fucking quick witted it's _astounding_ , Karkat." He gives Karkat a little grin. "You always have the snappiest comebacks, the fastest retorts- and they're always _hysterical_."

He leans over and kisses Karkat's cheek.

"And," he adds, "you always seem to know just what to say, or _how_ to say things. It fucking boggles the goddamn mind how well you can take a clusterfuck and just lay it all out with a couple of short, pissed-off sentences. My mind is goddamn boggled over here, Karkat, dozens of dice rolling around forever in astonishment like the world's worst-organized game of dungeons and dragons wrapped all up in my brain."

Karkat blinks at Dave while he goes on a spiel about his...tongue. And it somehow does a double reach-around back to being about how Dave...likes how Karkat talks?

Wow. That should not make his heart flutter like it does, but here it is, fluttering away like a butterfly stuck behind his rib cage.

Dave thinks he’s _quick-witted. Hysterical._

He’s blushing so much that when Dave kisses his cheek he’s genuinely shocked that Dave doesn’t jump back with a yelp because his lips just got burned, they _must_ have, there’s no way his face isn’t as hot as a stovetop right now.

Karkat opens his mouth, then promptly shuts it again.

“Well, fuck, now you’ve got me all in my own head about it,” Karkat huffs, “because apparently I’ve established this reputation as a silver-tongued devil but it feels like a very competent seadog grabbed my tongue with his weathered hands and tied it into a cat’s paw knot. Your praise has taken the phrase _cat got your tongue_ to another level, congratulations.”

Jesus. He was actually resorting to _puns_ right now. He wants to kick himself in the dick.

They're about to get off, so Dave regretfully lets go of Karkat's hand to zip his jacket back up.

"I will take that as a very big compliment." Dave says with a grin. He'd wink, but shades. "Imagine me winking salaciously. The most salacious. Getting you tongue-tied is an _accomplishment_."

Karkat is so red it's adorable. Dave wonders if he can make Karkat so flustered that he passes out from blood rush. What's the longest that anyone's ever been blushing for? Is there a world record? Dave bets he could make Karkat blush long enough to break a world record. Maybe he should look that up at home, it'd be fun to try. Or at the least, submit it as a world record idea.

"I bet I could make you blush long enough to break the world record." Dave blurts out.

The ride is over before Karkat knows it, and he pouts a little because they could have gotten a _lot_ more making out accomplished, but doesn’t have much time to fuss about it before their gondola is coming to a stop and the doors open.

They step off the gondola and Karkat instantly takes Dave’s hand as they walk towards Level D and the restaurant.

“Dave, I mean no offense when I say this, but one of these days I am going to document every unfiltered thought that falls out of your mouth and submit it to my Psych professor. Who will proceed to dissect it into fucking pieces, and then she’ll call for a council meeting with all world’s best psychoanalysts. They will proceed to write an article on the phenomenon. I can see the titles now: _Does being gay make your Adderal ineffective?,_ or maybe, _Being queer with ADHD, the complete memoir of one man’s constant struggle.”_

They walk through the third level of the Pier, passing by multiple shops before arriving in Level E, the Festival Hall which housed several exhibition halls, a museum, a café, and of course—the RIVA.


	10. Chapter 10

Karkat suddenly becomes very aware of just how fucking starving he is, having only had a protein bar and a small bowl of instant noodles for the entire day.

They speak with the hostess, and she takes them to their seats. As Karkat takes a seat across from Dave at the table lined with a crisp tablecloth that practically reflects light from how white it is, he is also struck with the fact that he and Dave have never been on a fancy dinner date like this before.

Dave snorts in laughter but then falls into a contemplative silence as they walk, mouth soft in a kind of bemused consideration.

The casual walk to their dinner is nice- just getting to see everything else that they could come back and visit another time- Dave gets a warm little flutter in his belly at the _idea_ of _another time_ , that he's going to get to take Karkat on date after date after date to make up for all the years they missed out on.

He can barely resist grinning like a fool, grinning to show all of the world _look, look at me- look at us, isn't this day incredible? Isn't this amazing? Aren't I so lucky? Isn't my fiancee the most perfect man in the world?_

They get to the restaurant and take their seats and wow yeah this is fancy but its also really really exciting- Dave can't stop himself from sliding one foot across the space under the table and lightly tapping their feet together.

"Hi." Dave says with a grin.

Karkat grins right back when he feels Dave bump his foot from under the table. This was certainly an upgrade to Dave’s little dining table and a bowl of instant shrimp-flavoured ramen with some egg in it, that was for sure.

He and Dave had gone out to eat when they were together, back in Houston. But they were seventeen, broke, and didn’t act like a couple in public. So it was just fast-food, snacks at movie theatres and corner stores, food trucks, and what have you. The closest they came to a sit-down dinner experience is when Dave got invited over for Thanksgiving dinner. But then, that could hardly be considered a date with his dad and Kankri there.

Karkat leans his chin on one hand, and from under the table he kicks his leg back and forth, making sure their calves brush with every swing.

“Hi, handsome.” Karkat says, still grinning.

The waiter comes by and introduces themselves, prattles on about the menu and some of the specials, sets down some glasses of water and—oh man, _water_.

Karkat thinks of his hydroflask back in his school bag, still practically full. He took two big gulps out of it today and that’s all the water he’s had. He instantly grabs the cup and nearly drains it while the waiter sets two menus down on the table and flies off to help the next table.

Karkat sets down his glass and picks up his menu and scans it for a moment before looking up at Dave. “I know you really like salmon, but I don’t think they’ve got any. But there is an ahi tuna fillet? I’m thinking maybe we get the Seafood Tower if you want, it comes with a bunch of assorted stuff. I don’t know about you but they could clean out the ocean and put it all on this table and I’d eat it all right now, I’m fucking starving. So get whatever you want, babe, and it’s my treat. If I even see you make a move for your wallet I’m stabbing you in the hand with a lobster fork. I made you waste two fucking coffees today so it’s the least I can do.”

Dave listens in mild interest as the waiter talks, but most of his focus is on every little shift and brush of their legs, sending little prickles of warmth up his calf. Not to his dick, though, it's not that kind of warmth, it's just... comfortable. And fond.

Really, it feels a lot like the kind of touches Dave would steal when they were out in public as kids. Thighs pressed together, patting Karkat on the shoulder, bumping into him as they joke around, clacking their ankles together more and more aggressively under fast food tables until they're almost knocking the table around and practically kicking each other-

You know. Normal touches.

But not it's _not_ a normal touch. Now it's a romantic touch, it's a deliberately romantic touch, and that's a whole different kind of touch that sends warmth coiling into him, diffusing through his body. As kids, he would steal a touch from Karkat and it would prickle across his skin for _hours_. He could reach a hand over and touch the spot and _shiver_ at the memory of the touch. (And sometimes jerk off but that was a different manner entirely. He didn't usually jerk off to the stolen touches- it was usually to the smell of Karkat's hair.)

When he picks up the menu and is told he's not allowed to pay at _all_ , he raises his brows.

"Babe." He says. "I'm pretty sure a meal here is _not_ the equivalent of two coffees." Not that the gesture isn't appreciated, of course, but Dave doesn't want Karkat to think that he _has_ to pay- Dave might be poor but he's not _completely_ broke- he's able to save some money now and then, so he's got a little bundle of cash that he could spend without feeling guilty. He pauses.

"Wait. Two? You only made me drop one, I finished my drink this morning."

Karkat sets his menu down and leans back in his chair, folding his arms.

“Nope, I’m not budging on this one. It’s fine, I’ve still got dad’s care package money burning a hole in my pocket anyway,” Karkat says, “And yeah, it was two. You didn’t have your drink yet when you chased me out of the café this morning, you had to buy another coffee at the other one we went to talk. And then you tipped those snobby pricks TEN dollars. I saw you do it. So that’s already like...twenty bucks.”

That doesn’t even cover the price of the appetizer, but Karkat doesn’t say so out loud. He doesn’t want Dave to think that Karkat feels like he _has_ to pay. Dave has a paid internship, and he was able to give those baristas a hefty tip without batting an eye, so he’s clearly not all about pinching his pennies.

But Karkat wants to treat his fiancé to a fancy dinner, and he will sit here fighting over the bill all night if he has to.

Maybe he’ll wait until Dave uses the bathroom and pay for everything then. Take that, Strider.

“If it makes you feel better you can buy us dessert at that gelato place we passed on the way here.” Karkat compromises.

Dave pouts a little but doesn't protest Karkat's argument. In truth, he's just the tiiiiniest bit relieved at not having to shove his budget around or take money out, but he feels kind of guilty admitting it.

Aw, shit, he's going to have to _redo his budget all over again_ to start keeping money aside for dates. That'll suck. Whatever, small price (ha) to pay.

"Oh, right. I guess I just forgot about that coffee this morning." Dave admits. "Out of sight, out of mind and all that."

He sighs. "Alright, fine, you win." He drops his menu to the side and puts his chin on his palm, resting his elbow on the table. "Since you're paying, I think that-" fuck, the only phrase that is in his brain right now is _rotisserie fish_ is in his brain right now, what the fuck, "it would be most prudent to go with the option that you are suggesting."

SMORGASBORD that's the bitch he's looking for. "A big old smorgasbord of fish sounds like a good tine."

Dave pouts and it takes a lot of willpower for Karkat not to clamber over the table and smooch him because _fuck_ Dave is cute when he’s pouty.

Dave doesn’t fight him further on the menu, so when their waiter comes back Karkat orders them the seafood tower. The waiter refills their water and Karkat instantly picks up the glass and half-drains it and he’s pretty sure the waiter is going to dump the jug of water on his crotch if he pulls that again but fuck it, he’s thirsty.

“Remember that food truck we always went to in Houston that did the fried catfish?” Karkat asks as the waiter heads off to get their order ready, “Believe it or not there are a few things I miss about Houston, and I think that catfish is in the top five. Still haven’t found a place that does it better than that little food truck did. Their dipping sauce? So fucking good.”

"Oh my god don't remind me." Dave groans. "That shit was so fucking good- fuck, if there's one reason to go back to Austin it's _that_."

He draws a pattern on the tablecloth as his mind flashes back to all of the food they'd gone out to eat together- technically it wasn't dates, and when it _was_ they couldn't really be publicly affection because of Dave's fear of getting caught by Bro.

"Oh shit, you know what else was good? Remember the time we went to the rodeo and got _alligator?_ " Dave says. "Shit, that was good. Weird as hell, but good." The weirdly greasy, heavy meat had sat in his stomach in the most pleasantly uncomfortable way for the rest of the day.

He also remembers that rodeo for another fond reason- they had explored all over and found a tiny little hidden nook and kissed each other senseless until their mouths were sore.

Karkat groans, and his face pulls into a grimace, “The only reason I let you talk me into eating that was because you promised me makeouts in that secret spot we found.”

Karkat had only been able to finish half of his portion of gator, but he still paid the price when he got home and spent a fucking hour in the bathroom feeling like he was going to die and his dad would find his corpse slumped on the toilet.

_ Jesus, Vantas, stop thinking about toilets and your dumbfuck bowels on your date. _

“We got pretty fucking good at scoping out all of the little hiding spots in town, huh?” Karkat recalls, “The lengths we would go to just for a few moments of privacy. One of our favourite spots to go was that cliff, you could see the whole city up there. We didn’t go there too often because the hike was pretty treacherous. But then again that’s why it was fucking deserted whenever we did make it up there, we were the only people dumb enough to go up there. Remember that time we were climbing back down and I slipped and fell in the river? I got such a nasty gash on my leg, I still have the scar.” Karkat leans down and rubs his hand on the side of his left calf, where he knows the long, white scar to be. “You gave me a piggyback ride the rest of the way back, you felt so bad.”

Dave grins at Karkats retort, bumping their ankles together again, affectionate and gentle.

"God, yeah, I remember that." Dave says. "I was fucking terrified when I saw you fall- I'm pretty sure I was ready to convert to full on Catholic to pray for god to make sure you were okay- and then I got down there and you were bleeding everywhere and I was so sure you were doing to die that I damn near fell to my knees to ask Jesus to save you."

He snorts, shaking his head a little at the memory. "It took hours to get those bloodstains to fade, but I would've carried you every time without a moment's hesitation."

Karkat bats his lashes overdramatically. “Aw. My _hero_.”

Their conversation is cut off by the waiter coming back with an absolute behemoth of a platter. It’s a three-tiered tower full of oysters, shrimp, crab, tuna tartare, and crab salad, with everything sitting on a bed of shaved iced and wedges of lemon. The waiter refills their waters again and Karkat’s mouth is so full of saliva he doesn’t feel the need to gulp down his water this time.

Yes. Hell yes. Hell _fucking_ yes.

“Well,” Karkat says, “that is _definitely_ a smorgasbord of seafood.”

"Holy shit." Dave says faintly, then realizes _oops maybe shouldn't curse here_. Wait, has he been cursing already? He doesn't know. Well, he probably shouldn't anymore otherwise he feels like the next person to hear him that isn't Karkat is going to give him nasty looks.

His biggest weakness is definitely nasty looks. He's only being a little hyperbolic, they _do_ fuck him up a _lot_.

"I am so ready to go to town on this baby." Dave says. Should he put his napkin in his lap? Is this _that_ kind of resturant? Maybe he should. He probably should, is Karkat's napkin in his lap?

Karkat's napkin is not in his lap. Phew. Okay, he's good.

"I have no idea where to even start with this, actually." Dave admits.

Karkat watches Dave fidget across the table, waiting for him to dig into the platter, but instead Dave seems to be holding back. Is he waiting for Karkat to go first? It’s hard to tell where Dave’s gaze is going with the shades on, but Karkat’s known him long enough to pick up on his movements. His head swivels the tiniest bit, he must be looking around the room. Then he looks at his...napkin?

Then back up to Karkat, and then he finally admits he has no idea what to do. Karkat smiles warmly at the open display of confusion, because it’s kind of endearing as hell. “Well,” he says, “should we both wear these dorky bibs, or no?”

He picks up a white bag beside his napkin that the waiter brought out with their food, and opens it up to reveal a large white bib with the restaurants logo and a picture of a bright red lobster. He passes it over to Dave and then opens the other bag.

Shit. This one has a _crab_ on it. “Oh fuck no, if we’re wearing this shit, we’re trading,” Karkat says, snagging the lobster bib back from Dave and tossing him the crab one. He’s been called _crabby_ enough times that he’s become associated with the fucking things, he is _not_ wearing a goddamn BIB with a crab emblazoned on the front.

Karkat puts on the lobster bib, then plucks an oyster and a jumbo shrimp off the platter and puts it on the small plate in front of him. “Oh, there’s three sauces up on the top, that one there is the spicy one so that’s all you,” Karkat explains as he scoops himself up some of the tuna tartare and puts it on his plate. “It’s pretty much a free-for-all, babe, just tie in. And if we empty this fucker and you’re still hungry just let me know, you can order whatever else you want.”

Karkat takes a bite of the tuna tartare and groans. “Oh holy shit, you’ve gotta try that, D. I’m pretty sure they caught this tuna like five minutes before it hit the table because this is fresh as _fuck_.”

Holy shit Dave has changed his mind this place is the dorkiest place ever. "Oh _hell_ yes." He says, making _gimme_ hands at Karkat at the bibs.

He's got no shame, he'll rock a bib. (Okay he has some shame but not about stuff like _this_.) Karkat passes over one with a lobster, changes his mind, and gives Dave the crab one instead and Dave grins, putting it on.

Okay, this dinner just got like. A million times less stuffy and a million times even _more_ fun.

"I'm disappointed there's no dumb joke on them." Dave says, as he smooths it down. "Where's my _Shrimpin' Aint Easy_ memorabilia?"

At the sauce explanation, Dave nods, already pulling the Tabasco bottles out and putting them on the table. He's never actually had oysters before, so he's so fucking curious to know what they taste like, but at Karkat's pronouncement he's _gotta_ try the tuna tartare first.

He takes a bite and- "Oh holy _shit_."

Yeah. You just don't get seafood like that in Austin. Maybe in L.A., but Dave didn't get a lot of chances to eat seafood there.

.

Karkat laughs around a bite of jumbo shrimp. “I’m sure all the fish pun memorabilia is at the Bubba Gump Shrimp Company. We can go there next time, and you can get all the tacky souvenirs you want.” Karkat promises.

At Dave’s reaction to the tuna tartare, Karkat grins. “Right? It’s so good.”

Karkat picks up the oyster he put on his plate and an oyster fork. “Have you ever had oysters before? You gotta loosen up the meat part a bit, like this,” Karkat moves the meat inside the oyster shell around with his fork, “Then you just knock it back, slurp it right off the shell. I see you with that fucking Tabasco, but try the first one with just some lemon first, you absolute heathen. Then you can drown the rest of them in as much nasty Tabasco as your Southern-bred heart desires.”

"Oh shit yes, go from high dining to Bubba Gump's." Dave says with a grin. "But if I see a guy making balloon animals there I'm going to go feral." He adds, picking up his fork to imitate Karkat.

He loosens the meat, looks down at the oyster and gives a little shrug. "Just down the hatch, huh?"

He tips it back.

_Hooooo_ ** _oooly shit_** it's like making out with the romanticized idea of the ocean. Salt and brine and _fresh_ and Dave has to put a hand over his mouth and just sit for a moment as he works through the weird, _good_ , complex flavors in his mouth.

"Holy shit." He manages after he swallows.

“Do you like it?” Karkat asks, “Please say yes, if I have to eat all these fucking oysters by myself they’re going to find my corpse lying in a pile of empty oyster shells. A hamster could use my remains as a salt lick, the sea salt will just be embedded into my flesh.”

Despite this vivid description, Karkat picks up another oyster, squirts it with a lemon wedge, loosens it up with the oyster fork and knocks it back.

"That is _so fucking good_ holy shit." Dave says and picks up another, adding a dab of Tabasco and tipping it back. "Mmmmmmm _mmmmm_." He has to fight not to be loud as hell.

"Karkat you have the best fucking ideas." Dave declares, having to make the conscious choice to reach for something else this time.

Karkat grins. “I’m glad my choice in engagement-celebration dinner was a success,” Karkat says, “even if we walk out of here feeling nine months pregnant with our waters about to burst open and spray sea water everywhere because _holy fuck_ this is a lot of food.”

Even splitting it between the two of them, it was still a monstrous amount of food. Karkat grabs a couple more shrimps, an oyster, and a lobster claw.

Karkat realizes that he’s two for two for gross, graphic descriptions while they are eating so he says, “I’m happy you’re having a good time, Dave.”

Dave snorts. "Yeah, right, let's try to avoid that. You think fancy places like this give to-go boxes?" He says, even though he knows taking seafood home (especially _oysters_ ) probably isn't the best idea. He grins softly, though, rubbing his ankle against Karkat's.

"Karkat." He says softly. "I'd have a good time even if you took me to the lake, caught a fish and put in my lap and said 'there's your dinner'."

Karkat cracks open the lobster claw and then looks up at Dave. “I’m glad you think so, because that’s the plan for date number two.”

He bumps Dave’s foot back.

“Unless you’ve got any _better_ ideas?” Karkat asks slowly, giving Dave a look from under his lashes.

Dave hums a little, slowly dabbing a shrimp into some sauce. "You know, as fancy as this place is- I would love to just get some pizza, have a movie..."

He lowers his voice, pressing his ankle to Karkat's and rubbing slowly, "and then just _rail_ you until you sob."

Karkat is working on another lobster claw as Dave begins to speak. When Dave’s voice gets low and his ankle _rubs_ slowly against Karkat’s leg, Karkat puts a little _too_ much force behind getting the claw open, and it bursts into splinters in his hands with a loud _CRACK_ , little shrapnel of lobster claw hitting his plate with a _tink-tink-tink_.

Karkat clears his throat, too loudly, and reaches for his napkin to wipe lobster juice and stray bits of shattered claw off his hands, as though nothing had happened.

He’s sure he looks a lot like the lobster right now. Broken. Red.

Soon to be eaten.

“S-sounds like a good time,” Karkat mutters, dunking a mangled piece of lobster into some butter with more force than necessary before stuffing it into his mouth.

Karkat goes a _beautiful_ shade of red and the lobster in his hand fucking shatters.

"Sure does!" Dave says cheerfully, as if nothing is happening, but familiar heat is starting to curl in his gut again so _fuck_ yes, after-date fucking is _so_ on.

He takes mercy on Karkat and pulls his ankle away, downing another oyster. God. This is going to become their go-to fancy restaurant, he can just _tell_.

Dave almost asks Karkat if he remembers the time that, speaking of movies, Dave sucked him off in the back of the movie theater. Almost. He manages to refrain through the use of Basic Decency.

Instead, what he says is, "man it would be fun to go to the movies sometime."

Dave’s leg moves away, abruptly ending its caress on the inside of Karkat’s calf. Karkat’s whole body aches from the loss. For the first time all night, Karkat is thankful he’s still not able to get it up right now, because that little move from Dave would have done the fucking trick, which would’ve been _very_ distracting while he’s trying to enjoy his date. His date who is already very distracting all on his own.

“There’s a couple of releases I’ve been interested in checking out,” Karkat manages to say after taking a moment to recollect himself, “I haven’t been to the theatre in a while—just been binging Netflix and shit while I work on homework or whatever. What about you, when was the last time you went to see a movie?”

Dave tilts his head a little, considering.

"Uh....." He bites his lip, trying to think of anything other than the literal one time he had gone to the movies in California. "Once in Cali, but other than that... not since our last movie date." He realizes.

Honestly, if Karkat asks him what movie he saw, Dave would have to tell him 'no fucking idea'. The point of that visit had..... not been to watch a movie.

“Oh, wow, so a pretty long time then. Last time I bothered seeing something in theatres was...” Karkat has to look up at the ceiling for a moment, his brow furrowed in thought, “maybe with Jade, to see—actually, shit, you know what, it was probably a date. Yeesh.”

Karkat shakes his head and goes back to his food. “Going to see a movie was usually the default with dates. You get to sit in silence for two hours, not looking at each other. I couldn’t even tell you his name, to be honest, but I remember he fell the fuck asleep. And he _snored_.” Karkat rolled his eyes, “Do you remember what the movie was? That you saw in California?”

Dave snorts a little at Karkat's bitching about the date, but then falters slightly.

"Uh... not really." He says, cheeks heating up as he remembers what had taken place. He's not quite sure what to say, because saying _'haha yeah I don't remember it because I was on the floor the whole time on my knees'_ probably isn't... appropriate. He settles for just giving a little shrug.

“Hm. Makes sense, it was a long time ago,” Karkat says.

Karkat doesn’t miss how Dave’s face got kind of flushed just then, which seems like an odd reaction for not remembering the movie, but...

Karkat watches Dave for a moment thoughtfully while chewing on his food.

“Do you remember what movie we went to see when _we_ went to the theatre?” Karkat asks, knowing Dave will know the visit to the theatre he’s talking about in particular.

Dave tilts his head. "Uh...." He tries to think. "Pretty sure it was something that had us fucking sobbing, dude." Wasn't it a dog movie? Or something? A movie that Dave had been adamant about not seeing because dog movies are always fucking sad-

"Oh, right, Marly and Me, wasn't it?" He says, brow furrowing in thought, taking another bite of shrimp.

Karkat dips another piece of lobster in butter. “No, but we did see that in theatres, too.”

He pops the bite in his mouth. Chews, swallows. Looks up at Dave with a neutral expression. “I meant the one where you blew me for the first time.” he says flippantly.

Dave is halfway through tipping back an oyster when Karkat speaks. He chokes, almost swallows the oyster, chokes _again_ , has to swallow the entire fucking thing whole in a painful gulp, and wheeze a little to recover.

"Christ, Karkat." He says weakly, his eyes watering as he grabs his glass. "Warn a guy first."

His ears are hot. Honestly, he doesn't remember _that_ movie either, other than it was some romcom that had Dave bored out of his mind. All of his attention had been on the squeezing grip of Karkat's hand on his, their thighs pressing together, the little noises Karkat would make- shocked, horrified, adoring- at whatever was happening on screen.

"N....no." He admits weakly, feeling the heat spread to his face.

Karkat sneers as Dave chokes on his oyster, having timed it so that Dave would be mid-swig when he dropped the bomb.

Payback, bitch.

“It was _My Best Friend’s Girl_ ,” Karkat says.

So Dave didn’t remember that movie, either. And, sure, they saw that movie even longer ago than whatever Dave saw in California. But Karkat figured he’d try to ask in case Dave did remember (despite being on his knees for most of it) simply because he’d gone with Karkat. And Dave had a funny way of remembering things when it came to Karkat.

As Karkat takes a break from his food to sip on his water, he looks off at nothing for a moment, contemplative.

Dave was forgetful, sure, but not usually about movies. Even with rom-coms Karkat had made him watch. He could remember that Dave would seem like he was bored out of his mind, and yet he’d still be able to hold a conversation about the movie after the fact. He just used the actor’s names because he never bothered to remember the character’s names, but still. He retained the information, for Karkat’s sake.

Karkat sets down his glass, wondering if the reason Dave can’t remember the movie he saw in California is the same reason he can’t remember the movie he saw with Karkat.

He shouldn’t let that thought bother him like it does. It had already been established that they had been with other people in their five years apart. If Dave blew some other dude in a theatre in California, it didn’t mean anything. It was in the past.

But for some reason Karkat can’t help the feeling building in his stomach, like a bunch of sluggish worms coiling around in thick sludge. It doesn’t feel like _jealousy_ , it feels like...unease?

He licks his lips before speaking again, hoping his voice comes out steady, “It was a long time ago, too. And you were—justifiably distracted.”

"Right, yeah." Dave says, his face getting _more_ red, with Karkat continuing to talk. "I.... vaguely remember it being something like that."

That's more than what he has on the one in California, honestly. He doesn't even remember the _genre_ of that one.

Honestly, he can still remember that movie date _vividly_. He pounding of his heart as he leant over and kissed Karkat's neck, how his hands shook as he slid to the floor, Karkat's wide eyes and how dark his face went, his hissed protests until Dave's hands were on his dick, the low, breathless _'come on, baby, live a little'_ , Karkat's hand clutching his own in a death grip as Dave slipped his cock into his mouth-

Yeah. Dave remembers a lot about that movie, but not... the actual movie.

Who was Dave with in that theatre?

How many people was Dave with while he was in California?

How many times was he with Damara?

Did he ever love any of them?

...Did he love Damara?

Karkat pokes some tuna tartare around his plate, the worms in his stomach churning.

Fuck, why is he thinking about this _now_? Dave told him he would tell Karkat about his past, that he would let Karkat in. Karkat told Dave he could be patient. But the questions are building up inside his head and all he wants to do is blurt them out. Maybe it would relieve the sickening feeling in his gut, the pressure in his brain.

He didn’t want to think about this right now. He _shouldn’t_ be thinking about this right now. He was on a date with Dave, his boyfr—his fucking _fiancé_ —right now. All this shit could wait until later.

Karkat finally scoops up a bite and chews. He can’t taste a thing.

Dave expects Karkat to rib him about not remembering, or to get more flustered as they remind each other of that date, but Karkat doesn't say... anything.

His expression goes... _twisted_ , for a lack of a better term. Upset and hurt and Dave isn't quite sure what he said wrong but now his stomach is squirming uncomfortably.

He slides a foot over and lightly nudges against Karkat's foot.

"You okay?" He asks softly. "Sorry for not remembering. Thats... the kinda thing I probably should, huh?"

Fuck. Dave noticed. How could he not, nice going, Vantas—

“I’m fine,” Karkat says, and when he smiles it feels like there’s invisible strings tugging at the corners of his mouth. Forcing it. “Like I said, you were kind of occupied. I just thought it would be kind of funny if you remembered.”

Not really a lie, but not exactly the truth, either.

He shouldn’t have asked about California again, Karkat had only himself to blame for how he was feeling now.

Think of something else. Anything else. He needed a distraction, something, anything—

Karkat rubs his foot up Dave’s leg again.

“Remember our first Valentine’s Day?” he asks.

Dave, like the coward he is, takes the easy out. "Oh my god, don't remind me." He groans. "That entire _week_ leading up to it was a goddamn nightmare of candy hearts and trying to figure out what to do."

Honestly, it wasn't that bad, but- Dave _does_ remember the unrelenting panic of trying to figure out what to do to make it special without possibly giving them away as a couple.

Then, like a goddamn genius, he had ended up leaving a fucking riddle for Karkat with a rose taped to it that would lead him in a nice little loop around town for all their special places that they had been to- ending up on the cliff that they claimed as their own special spot.

Dave remembers pacing back and forth, chewing on his nails, wondering if he had made the clues too hard and karkat was going to get stuck, wasn't going to show up.

Yeah. Karkat had showed up. Dave hadn't had much there, but he had a blanket and some snacks and they curled together and that was the first night that Dave said _'I love you'_.

Karkat’s appetite set to the back burner for now, he just leans his chin on his hand and listens to Dave talk, a small smile on his face. Small, but genuine. Not forced.

“Well, you sure as hell pulled it off,” Karkat says, “I mean, leaving me a bunch of clues and notes around town? It was like something right out of the movies.” He runs his fingertip around the rim of his glass. “My heart was pounding the entire time. And it was so weird, going to all those places by myself because they were _ours_ , you know? Even the climb up that hill was, like...lonely. All I could think about was _he better be at the top of this cliff when I get up there so I can finally kiss him_. I just wanted to see you.”

Condensation rolls down the glass. He lets it drip down onto his finger, watches the moisture sink into his skin.

“I already knew I loved you, and that you loved me too, even though neither of us had said it yet. We didn’t need to. Everything just fell into place without those words.”

_ Did you say those words to anyone else? _

Karkat looks up at Dave and feels the strings pulling at his cheeks again. “But, it was still nice to finally hear it.”

Dave smiles softly, listening to Karkat reminisce.

"Yeah... I knew it for a while, honestly." He says, cracking open a piece of lobster for something to do with his hands. "God, I remember the words would spin in my head for... fuck, for _months_ maybe before that holiday. I didn't just want to blurt them out, though."

He shakes his head a bit, holding back a laugh. "I knew I wanted it to be _special_. All your cheesy romcoms and romance novels had rubbed off on me- I knew I wanted to make the first time I said it good enough to be right out of one of those. For you."

He slowly swirls the lobster piece in the butter, his smile soft and fond. "I guess I did it right, because you still remember it." He taps his foot gently against Karkat's, his heart fluttering in his chest.

“Of _course_ I do.” Karkat’s voice can only come out in a whisper, and he can’t meet Dave’s gaze.

He feels like fucking crying right now. He can’t shake it, and he hates it.

He was going to ruin their date if he didn’t smarten up soon. It’s like the room is closing in around him, and the questions still keep running around in his brain and Karkat can’t make them _stop_.

Dave’s foot bumps against his under the table.

He thinks back to earlier that day when Dave pulled on his hair and told him to call him _daddy_ , and Karkat’s brain went into a blissful fog. He yearns for that mindless daze now, wants to just turn these thoughts off and just allow himself to _feel_ instead of _think_.

Karkat scoots up a bit on his chair. He swings his foot up under the table and up into Dave’s lap, pressing his heel right against Dave’s cock through his jeans.

“Do you want to get the fuck out of here?” Karkat murmurs.

Dave feels the smile start to slide off his face at Karkat's quiet response, the ache in his voice. Then, Karkat's foot is on his _dick_ and Dave feels heat pulse into his gut, but-

but Karkat looks _miserable_.

Dave reaches under, finds Karkat's ankle, and gently lifts Karkat's foot, settling it in his lap instead. He rubs his thumb over Karkat's skin.

"Hey." He says softly. "Babe, what's going on? You okay?"

Karkat feels the colour drain out of his face.

No. No, no, this wasn’t—Dave was supposed to say _I thought you’d never ask_ and then they could get the hell out of here. They could go back to Karkat’s dorm and Dave could slam Karkat into a wall and kiss and fuck him until he’s sore and his brain _breaks_.

He doesn’t want to talk right now, he doesn’t want to think—it’ll ruin everything, he’s going to fuck this up—

He’s _already_ fucking this up—

Karkat can’t get a breath in. He’s scared to blink, worried tears will spring up and spill over if he does.

“I’m—“ Karkat voice cracks. He swallows roughly and tries again. “Y-yeah, I’m fine, just—I just—“

_ There’s still so much I don’t know and that terrifies me. _

_ I keep trying to tell myself your past doesn’t matter but it’s still eating away at my insides. _

Come on. This is Dave.

_ You know you can talk to me about anything, right? _

It was a two-way street, wasn’t it? Karkat should be able to talk to him. He _needs_ to talk to him—they need to _talk_ , just say something, you idiot, anything—

“Uh, it’s...” Karkat stares down at the table, “I’m just—it’s just been a long day—and, I just...”

_ I just want you to make me forget everything. All these thoughts in my head. My own name.  _ **_ Her _ ** _ name. _

_ I wish you never told me her name. _

“S-Sorry,” Karkat gets out in a short breath, “you’re probably still hungry.”

Karkat's expression is looking very close to crumbling and Dave's heart is pounding painfully in his chest and Dave feels about one wrong sentence away from fucking everything up.

"Hey, hey, baby, it's okay." He says softly. "It's alright- whatever it is, we'll work it out, okay? You want to get out of here, we can get out of here. Go back and curl up together, yeah?"

He keeps his hand on Karkat's ankle, rubbing gently back and forth. In truth, even if he _was_ hungry, he didn't think he could eat, not with the terrible, _fragile_ edge to Karkat's expression.

"Lemme flag down our waitress, okay? We can head back." He says reassuringly, looking away to try and spot her.

Karkat takes in a deep breath. Dave’s soothing touch on his ankle is reassuring. Grounding.

He feels a bit embarrassed now for pulling the whole foot-to-the-crotch thing, feeling his face burn. And also like a huge idiot for fucking everything up right now in the most spectacular way.

Dave thought he was quick-witted, hilarious, and full of good ideas. But one little ugly thought gets planted into his brain and suddenly he spirals, careening into a panic and messing up their date.

He nods along anyway as Dave talks, because yes, _yes_ —he wants to leave, the touch on his ankle is sending shots of fire up his leg. Karkat needs more, needs Dave to touch him _everywhere_.

Dave asks for their bill, and then the two of them are left there, sitting at the table. Karkat’s leg is starting to ache in this position but he doesn’t want to move, doesn’t want to pull himself away from Dave’s touch.

The waiter comes back with their bill and Karkat pays (a small redemption, perhaps). Then they collect their coats and head out of the restaurant.

As they walk through the crowded pier, the sights and the sounds are a blur. The edges of Karkat’s vision are hazy and sound only comes out in thick static as he dissociates.

He grabs Dave’s arm and puts it around his shoulders, sighing as he leans into Dave’s side as they walk.

Dave is the only thing that’s crystal clear to him right now. His solidness of his body against Karkat’s, his warmth, the weight of his arm around Karkat keeping him tethered to the floor so he doesn’t float away. His smell, intermingled with Karkat’s own with his hair and skin washed with Karkat’s shampoo and body wash, Karkat’s clothes on his body.

Them, meshed together into one.

Karkat breathes deep, and nuzzles closer to Dave.

Maybe he should make up some excuse? What should he do? What should he say?

“Sorry,” he says with a sigh, when nothing else comes to mind.

Karkat is quiet as Dave gets their bill, lets Karkat pay, and they leave.

He's getting worried as shit about whatever it was he did that set Karkat off- but he's not going to push right now while they're in public. He wants to get Karkat home and safe and not push him into a public rage- or worse, a breakdown.

It's a relief when Karkat moves close, tucks himself against Dave's side, as they're coming up to the bus stop. His whispered apology makes Dave's heart _hurt_ , but he just presses a soft kiss to the side of Karkat's head.

"It's okay, baby." Dave murmurs. "You didn't do anything wrong- you don't need to apologize." They stop and he turns and takes Karkat into his arms properly, hugging him tightly.

"Lets go home, Karkat." He murmurs. "Whatever it is- we'll work it out, alright?" He presses another kiss to Karkat's temple, keeping one arm around Karkat's shoulders, the other one coming up to cup the back of Karkat's head, rubbing his thumb soothingly back and forth through Karkat's hair.

Karkat’s eyes flutter closed when Dave holds him close as they stand at the bus stop, gently rocking back and forth. Dave’s thumb strokes into the back of Karkat’s head in a dizzyingly soothing massage. Karkat wraps his arms around Dave’s waist, burying his face into Dave’s chest.

Dave was so good. He was so, so good. He always knew just want to do and say to pull Karkat up out of the ichor.

_ Let’s go home. _

Karkat’s heart flutters at the words. Dave was his _home_ , Dave was so good and so _perfect_ —

Karkat had to be perfect too, or he was going to lose him all over again.

What can he do? How does he come back from this stupid panic-induced blunder? He needs to piece himself back together, he needs to fix this. He needs to say something, something that will put Dave at ease, something to stop the feeling like he’s about to drown—

But every thought in his mind wouldn’t make both of those things happen. And the things he could say to make Dave feel better would just be bullshit excuses or lies. He doesn’t want to lie, Dave hasn’t lied to him, he can’t do that to him, they have to be honest. He should just say everything right now, everything that’s on his mind.

“Okay...” is all he’s able to get out, muffled into Dave’s chest.

God, he’s pathetic.

Dave just holds Karkat, fear starting to creep through his belly. He hates himself for it, but- he can't stop feeling like maybe he said something, did something- and now Karkat's changed his mind.

No. No, he wouldn't be pressing into Dave like this if he changed his mind- he'd be storming off and scowling and telling Dave how much of a shithead he is.

Still- panic is fluttering in his belly. Dave _did_ something that caused Karkat to be like this- and he doesn't know what to do other than to get Karkat home and get him horizontal and just _hold_ him.

Finally the bus comes on and they get on and Dave pulls Karkat all the way to the back, where he nudges Karkat into the window seat and tucks himself into the seat right next to him, pressing against him and tugging Karkat's legs to drape over Dave's.

They don't say anything on the ride back, just Dave holding Karkat closely, and breathing slowly, trying to just be there for him.

They get back to Karkat's dorm because like hell is Dave going to go to his where John and Sollux _definitely_ are, they get inside, and they barely get their coats off before Dave is pulling Karkat into his room.

He flips his shades up, cups Karkat's face in both hands and says softly, "Baby. Talk to me, please. What's going on in there?" Lightly bumping their foreheads together.

Dave’s shades are off the moment they’re in Karkat’s room and Karkat’s stomach drops when he sees the worry, the _fear_ , in Dave’s eyes. He feels like fucking pond scum.

He’s speaking to him so _softly_ , cupping Karkat’s face gently in his hands. Dave held Karkat together the entire way back, literally and figuratively. He was handling this downward spiral Karkat was on with more fucking grace than Karkat would ever deserve.

Karkat can’t hold back anymore, and his face crumples in Dave’s hands as he breaks into tears. “I’m not the person I was then,” Karkat says wetly, bringing his hands up to grab Dave’s wrists.

“I’m not the boy that was sitting on that blanket on the cliff that you said you loved. I’m all twisted up, I’m—“ Karkat sobs, “I’m fucked up and I’m going to fuck this all up I’m already fucking this all up because of my _stupid head_ and I don’t want to lose you—“

Karkat _bursts into tears_ and Dave feels like shit as Karkat starts dumping words about how he's different, about how he's fucked up and he's doing to ruin everything-

"Babe, baby, shh, easy, easy." Dave breathes, gently pulling Karkat down onto the bed. "It's alright, you're not ruining anything." He wraps his arms around Karkat, laying the two of them out on their sides so that Karkat can press his face to Dave's chest.

"You're not gonna _lose_ me, baby, I'm right fucking here- I'm not going anywhere." Dave promises, bringing one hand back up to Karkat's cheek to thumb away some of the tears slipping down his face. "Talk to me, what's bringing this on?"

Dave pulls Karkat onto the bed and lies them both down on their sides, and Karkat instantly presses himself into Dave as he shakes with sobs.

He _can’t_ talk, he can’t _think_ —

“I-it’s stup—id,” Karkat hiccups, “I-I just get th-these thoughts in my head and then they w-won—won’t go away...”

There’s so many thoughts and questions running through his mind, he doesn’t know which one to focus on. Karkat can hardly remember what it was that made him feel like this in the first place. What was it?

Dave’s so warm and gentle around him, wiping his tears away gently with his thumb. Karkat wants to take it into his mouth and suck on it. Wants Dave’s fingers in his mouth again as he fucks him into the bed.

He wants him he wants him he wants him he wants him _he wants him_ —

It’s the only thing playing like a mantra in his head. But Dave sees right through him right now, how can he not? If Karkat makes a move now, Dave would only push him away.

As he should.

“I need to stop thinking,” Karkat blurts out, “I don’t want to think right now, I—I just—“

Talk to him talk to him talk to him talk to him _talk to him_ —

Karkat takes a deep breath, and just tries to focus on the feeling of Dave around him, his thumb running along his cheek.

“I kn-know I said I’d be patient,” Karkat murmurs, “but...it just feels like...”

_ I need to know what happened. _

“It f-feels like I still don’t know about everything...”

_ I need to hear it from you. _

“And...and I can’t move forward until I do. Like I’m j-just spinning my wheels, stuck—stuck talking about the past, because whenever C-California comes up I just shut down.”

_Why did you stay? Why did you stay with her?_ _Did she make you feel like you had to? Did you want to? Were you convinced that you wanted to?_

Karkat opens his eyes. “I’m sorry I’m asking you,” he murmurs, “I w-wanted to let you tell me in y-your own time. But...I...I just need to know, I’m sorry.”

Karkat's crying harder and all Dave can do it just hold him, his stomach twisting and sinking slowly.

Yeah, yeah- he probably should have expected this. Should have expected it wouldn't be as easy as saying "yup shit happened in California" and then just. Not saying anything else.

Can anyone blame him? Today's been such-

God it's only been _one day_.

Today's been such a crazy whirlwind of _reconnection_ and lust and hope and ache and god it's probably just hitting so fucking hard for Karkat, especially when Dave's got all this shit tucked away in his closet.

"It's okay." Dave says softly. "It's- there's..." He grimaces. "A _lot_ , babe."

If Dave could have his way, he'd shove everything into a closet and never touch it again. But that's not fair to Karkat. Or to himself, he supposes, but- Karkat is more important.

He shakes his head.

"If you didn't ask, I'm pretty sure I would never say anything." Dave says softly, leaning in to bump their foreheads together, holding Karkat's wet gaze. "It's okay. You don't need to be sorry." He feels a little sick, but- it's manageable. For Karkat, it's manageable. "I just- don't know where to start, I guess, with all of it, so- talk to me, baby. What's getting caught in there?"

** It was better than staying at home with Bro. **

** There are some people you just don’t say no to. **

** She...took an interest. **

** I wanted it. **

Karkat doesn’t know anything about Dave’s time living with Bro _or_ Damara. He only has enough to go on to know that Damara taught Dave about...Karkat’s mind searches for the term for a moment. Power dynamics? Sub/dom play?

** Bro paid her. **

Damara was a porn star.

** He never...forced me to be in anything. **

But just because Bro didn’t direct, it didn’t mean Dave still hadn’t—

Karkat’s heart plummets into his stomach.

“When you went to that theatre,” Karkat says slowly, realization pulling across his face, “was that for a date, or for...something else?”

Karkat is quiet for a minute, clearly thinking, and Dave's stomach twists as he waits, nerves growing.

Dave tries to figure out what to say. He bites his lip, glancing away.

"Um. Something else." He mumbles. He winces a little, trying to figure out what to say that doesn't make him sound like... a _literal whore_.

"I-" His face is going hot with embarrassment. "Um. Oh god, okay, I don't know how to say this-" He presses a hand to the back of his mouth, looking away. "So- um- something to know first- Damara has- had, um, almost like- a network. Of people. And it was basically like a- a way of. Um. Arranging scenes." Does that make sense? Please god let that make sense because if he tries to explain it in anymore detail he is _absolutely_ going to sound like a prostitute and that's _not what was happening_.

"She-" _pushed_ \- "nudged me into, um, accepting the sub- uh. Yeah. For it. So it wasn't- it wasn't a date. Or anything like that." Dave says hastily.

There a lingering pulse of heat that zings through him, remembering the hands on his thighs and the hands in his hair and the toys they had shoved into him. God. It was _hot_ as fuck, but- something in his belly still squirms at the memory and he doesn't know why.

Karkat isn’t crying now. It was as though a faucet was twisted off the moment the realization dawned on him. Now he feels eerily calm again, but without the anger. He just feels numb.

“Did you do a lot of, um, scenes?” Karkat asks softly, his voice rough and raw from crying.

He presses closer into Dave. He’s so cold that he isn’t even shivering, but he still craves the warmth. The comfort.

“Were these things, these scenes—always recorded?” Karkat asks, “Is that why you stayed with her, instead of your brother? Because he...he saw the videos of you being with guys?”

Bro _was_ a director, after all. Surely if there were videos of Dave in these ‘scenes’, _especially_ where he’s in the role of a sub...Bro wanted to ‘make Dave into a man’, that’s why he’d introduced him to Damara in the first place.

Karkat doesn’t know what Dave’s upbringing with Bro was like. And he only knows enough about Damara to assume—

** I wanted it. **

_ It’s okay if you didn’t. _

** There are some people you just don’t say no to. **

Damara forced herself onto Dave. Dave said _yes_ , because he _couldn’t say no_. Because saying no was likely an even worse punishment than letting her have her way.

Dave said yes, but he didn’t want it. Dave said yes, and he said yes so much he had _convinced_ himself that it had never been a no.

And when it wasn’t Damara forcing herself onto Dave on her own, did Damara get some kind of...some _sick enjoyment_ out of watching Dave fuck someone that he didn’t want to? Was that what these scenes were?

Were there _videos on the internet of Dave getting raped?_

Tears pool and spill out of Karkat’s eyes, rolling across the bridge of his nose as he lies on his side and stares at Dave. He’s got the back of his hand pressed to his mouth—like he could be sick. His eyes are far away, not looking at Karkat. Like he can’t meet his gaze while he tells Karkat this—because he’s _ashamed_.

“How many scenes were you in?” Karkat whispers.

"Um." Dave swallows, trying to think. "She recorded some, but- I don't... I don't think she ever put any of them online."

His stomach turns to stone. No. No that's not true. He _knows_ there were some she put up. Because-

He shoves that resurfacing memory away and traps it into the deepest pit he can imagine. He's _not_ thinking about that right now.

"No, Bro was- um. He wasn't... that bad. He didn't care about- anything I did." He mumbles. He can't look at Karkat right now because if he does he has a feeling he is going to break the fuck down. He feels shaky, like he's far away and only connected to his body my the tiniest thread.

He shakes his head though with a weak little laugh. "No, though- Bro, he um. Bro was a big ol' fucking hypocrite." He says. "He didn't care about anything- since it was all, um, run by Damara- it wasn't. Um. Punishable. He probably uh, saw it _as_ the punishment."

He chews his lip, trying to count. Trying to remember everything.

“But- I don't know." Dave finally says. Not only because he can't count them, but- because he can't remember them all. He's pretty sure there are blank spots where he _knows_ he had a scene but he just. _Doesn't remember it_.

Karkat wipes away his fallen tears as Dave speaks. Watches as Dave’s eyes flicker around, thinking—trying to _remember_.

Dave doesn’t know.

When Karkat pulls his hand away from his face, his eyes are hardened. It’s like something within him shifts, and his body goes on autopilot. He slowly pulls himself from Dave’s arms, with a bit of reluctance but he doesn’t even feel in control right now. A determination sits in the driver seat, guiding his movements.

Karkat pulls himself up out of bed, walks over to his desk, and sits down in front of his laptop.

Dave had unfollowed him everywhere, blocked him, completely wiped all traces of himself from Karkat’s life and made it impossible for Karkat to find him.

All this time, Karkat’s been searching on the wrong kinds of websites. Searching the wrong name.

He opens a new tab, and his fingers hover over the keys for a moment...not hesitating, but wondering what it is he should even type. He decides to keep it simple.

He punches a few words into the search bar.

_ damara xxx _

Now he hesitates, his finger over the Enter key.

But he steels himself. He needs to do this. He has to know.

And apparently, so does Dave. Karkat hits Enter.


	11. Chapter 11

Dave's throat closes up as Karkat doesn't say anything, just gets up. He's convinced for a moment that Karkat is going to-

going to what, throw something at him? Go grab the coat Karkat lent him and kick him out? Call him a fucking slut?

Of course, he doesn't do any of that- he sits down and opens his computer.

Dave's brow furrows and he slowly climbs off the bed and comes over, only for his heart to skip a beat.

First website. _The Handmaiden's Den._

Before Karkat can click on anything, Dave reaches out and covers his hands with Dave's.

"Karkat." He says softly. "I- I don't know if you should- see this. See me like this."

Fuck. There goes his admittance of not knowing if there are videos of him up.

"If you want to, I won't- I won't stop you." He can feels his hands trembling slightly and shifts, covering Karkat's a little more fully.

"But please-" Dave feels his voice crack. "Don't think-" He presses a soft kiss to the top of Karkat's head. "Don't think less of me." He whispers, miserable.

Dave gets up out of bed as Karkat sits at the computer, and before Karkat can click on any of the videos that come up in the search— _holy fuck, is that Damara? There’s a girl with black hair, Karkat doesn’t see Dave yet_ —Dave puts both his hands over Karkat’s. Is he trying to stop him?

Karkat looks up at Dave. Dave’s hands are trembling where they rest on top of Karkat’s, and when Karkat looks up at Dave, his eyes fully exposed to every emotion...he looks ripped open and vulnerable.

Dave presses a small kiss to the top of Karkat’s head and asks him in a broken, miserable whisper for Karkat to not think less of him. Karkat’s heart breaks. He closes his eyes and take in a deep breath as Dave keeps his nose buried into his hair. Then he moves Dave’s hands away but gives one of them a reassuring squeeze.

“So you do know about some of them, then,” Karkat says, and his voice isn’t accusatory. In fact, he’s actually feeling a weird sense of relief. At least Dave knows there’s videos of him out there.

But does he know about _all_ of them?

“Dave, sweetheart, look at me. Come on, look,” Karkat turns in his chair to face Dave properly, bringing his hand up to take Dave gently by the chin. He doesn’t force him to look, just gently asks him, doesn’t want to force him to do _anything_ , not even for him.

Not after god-only-knows what else.

Dave finally meets his eyes, and Karkat takes both his hands in his and gives them a tight squeeze as he looks up at Dave.

“Listen to me. There is _nothing_ on here that would make me think less of you,” Dave opens his mouth but Karkat squeezes his hands even tighter and cuts him off, “And don’t tell me I can’t say that when I haven’t even seen what’s on here yet. There. Is. _Nothing_. And if you tell me to stop looking, we will stop. But I just...I need to know what happened to you, Dave. And it sounds like...it sounds like _you_ do, too.”

_So you do know_ and even though it's not an accusation, Dave still flinches. Karkat's turning to look at him, asking Dave to look at _him_ and it's hard, it's so fucking hurt but Dave does, stripped open and raw and there's nothing but softness, nothing but a sad, gentle ache in Karkat's eyes and Dave feels tears spill over.

_You'll think I'm disgusting._ He wants to say, but Karkat cuts him off.

And he's. Not wrong. Karkat deserves to know, and these- this is easier than _telling_ him. And it's true, Dave... Dave needs to know, too. Needs to know what Damara's shown the world.

"Okay." Is what he finally manages. "But- please. On the bed?"

He feels like a fucking child. He wants to curl up with Karkat and press his face into Karkat's shoulder as Karkat takes this horrible trip down into the scummy pond of Dave's time in California.

“Of course,” Karkat says, “Whatever you need.”

Dave is fully clothed but with his shades off, he’s completely exposed. Vulnerable, the mask pulled away. Karkat unbuttons his dress shirt and tosses it onto the floor, now just wearing the thin t-shirt he got from Dave. A piece of Dave, wrapped around him. He picks up his laptop and takes it over to the bed, sitting with his back against the headboard. Dave crawls in next to him as Karkat puts the laptop on his lap.

Karkat wraps one arm around Dave’s shoulder and pulls him in close. Now Dave would be able to smell the scent of his own shirt mixed with Karkat’s—the two of them, meshed together. It was enough to give Karkat’s mind some peace earlier, so hopefully it would have the same effect on Dave.

Karkat presses a kiss into Dave’s hair. It’s certainly a strange occurrence of events, sitting in bed cuddled up together, about to watch porn without any intention of sexuality behind it. He presses a few more kisses into the top of Dave’s head, rubbing his hand up and down Dave’s shoulder.

“So, I guess I’ll just...” Karkat starts, slowly, awkwardly. “Um, if anything looks...I guess _familiar_ to you, we don’t—we don’t need to look. But if there’s...I don’t know a thumbnail you’re in, a description, something that you don’t...you _can’t remember_...tell me, and we’ll—we’ll figure this out together, okay? And if you need to stop at any time, even if we don’t even make it through one minute of a video—I won’t care. I won’t even look by myself. Never. If it’s only going to hurt and upset you, we won’t do this, and I’ll put an end to it as soon as you say so.”

Karkat arranges them on the bed so that Dave can curl against him, press his face to Karkat's shoulder and just breathe. Like this, he doesnt have to see Karkat's face- and painfully enough, that makes it more okay. Like he can at least hide a _little_ bit.

"Okay." He says quietly. "Um- yeah. Okay. I promise- I'll tell you if I need to stop."

His heart is pounding painfully as he stares at the black and red of Damara's website.

"I think." He says, falteringly, "you can. Probably search for me by. The nickname she always used."

He swallows.

"She called me her knight." He whispers.

He doesn't know what they'll find. Dave is plunged into the terrifying realization that he _doesn't know how many videos of him_ she put up. He knows she did at least a couple- but- for all he knows, for all he remembers-

there could be _hundreds_.

Two years is a long time.

Karkat takes a deep breath. “Okay.”

He goes to the black search bar, and types with one hand the word _knight_ in bright, candy-red letters. He gives Dave’s shoulder a soft squeeze with his other hand as he hits enter.

The page loads, and—

_ Oh. _

There he is, suddenly in every thumbnail. With Damara. With people Karkat doesn’t recognize. Karkat doesn’t scroll yet, the page shows enough to show the first five results, but Karkat sees that the scroll bar at the side of the screen has shrunken down to a needle point now that search has been filtered.

In that bright, candy red—

_ Showing 237 results for  _ **_ knight _ ** _. _

Karkat’s eyes glaze over the video titles, but can’t quite process them. He sees a flash of blond hair in the thumbnails, but then it’s like his brain shuts it out. Like looking is a disservice to Dave. Improper. He won’t look at anything until Dave asks him to.

“Do these look familiar to you?” Karkat asks quietly.

Dave swallows. "Oh." He says lamely.

He had expected... a dozen, maybe. Or two.

Huh. He feels a little numb. Ha. Of course she wouldn't hold back. Especially once he left- she wouldn't have any need to hold back.

His gaze traces over the videos, trying to remember the... events. Trying to put them together from the snapshot and the name.

"Oh." He reaches a hand out and taps one. "That one... yeah. I remember that." He says quietly. Funny, how all of the top rated videos are ones where he was a sub.

The video he's talking about is one where Damara had been mad at him for... something or other. Spoiling a scene, maybe, he doesn't remember. But he remembers the gag, remembers the toys being pressed into his mouth as she took her fury out on his ass.

"And- this one, too." He murmurs. Getting pegged by F- by one of Damara's favorite doms. Having scene with her was always- it was nice. She was gentle. Her strap had been disgustingly huge, but like- Dave came on it all the same, so- it doesn't really matter all that much.

He looks at the other couple of visible ones, but he can't guess at what they were just from the picture and title. "Not sure about the others." He admits.

Dave points to two of the five results visible so far, but isn’t sure about the rest. Karkat swallows roughly. This would be showing the top results, the most popular—and Dave already isn’t sure...

“Let’s just...click on this one, then.” Karkat says, and clicks on the third video.

Some pop-up shows up over the video before it can load, and Karkat exits out of it. There’s just a black screen and a red play button staring back at them. Karkat is about to ask Dave if he’s ready but—of fucking course he’s not. Karkat isn’t ready either.

He scrolls over to the play button, and clicks.

Dave tucks his head against Karkat's shoulder as Damara's logo fades in, then out.

There's a moment of a camera looking down at a dark sidewalk, but then it pans up and it's clear it's a cellphone camera recording. It pans up to a group of three guys walking ahead of the cameraman, Dave's blond hair in the middle. The cameraman picks up the pace to shove his way to be in the front of them, walking backwards, the footage shaky.

"Evening, gentlemen!" The cameraman says. "Anyone want to give the longwinded speech?"

Video-Dave huffs and shakes his head. "Funny." He says, and one of the guys next to him elbows him.

"Alright, alright," the cameraman laughs, and zooms in on Video-Dave's face. "What're we going to do tonight, _Knight?_ "

Video-Dave grins, and for all intents and purposes, it looks real. Relaxed, lazy. "We're going to go clubbing, of course."

The video zooms out again. One of the guys next to Video-Dave slips a little remote from his pocket and wiggles it at the camera.

"Gonna have some real fun." He flip the switch. Video-Dave jolts, missing a step, and grabs onto one of the guys' arms, his face going pink.

"Come on," he says weakly, "unfair, we're not even in the club yet."

Dave pauses the video. "I forgot about that." He says quietly. "Those guys weren't that bad. They were... fun. There to have a good time."

He drags the mouse along the video scroll bar, watching the preview flash past. Dave, grinding between two guys, a shot of him with his arms draped backwards around one of their necks, hips jutting forwards to grind against someone's thigh in the press of bodies, head tilted back and face flushed, then it cuts to the club bathroom where he's getting shoved against a wall and kisses, hands going down his pants, then he's got a leg hiked up, then he's being bent over the sink, hand in his hair, then he's riding one of them and sucking another-

Dave clicks the back arrow. "Relatively tame." He sighs, shifting to curl a little bit better against Karkat. "I guess not that bad so far." He murmurs, but even as he says it, he knows it'll only get worse from here.

Karkat’s heart is racing as the video comes on. He watches in silence as the first couple minutes of the video plays through. The cameraman zooms in on Dave’s face and calls him _knight_. Dave flashes the camera his patented cool kid grin, the one Karkat saw all the time when he and Dave were at school, when Dave would be standing around chatting with his friends.

This smile is even more of a mask.

Dave’s voice isn’t the classic indifferent monotone he had down to a fine art as a kid. Here it’s...listless.

Dave pauses the video and skips ahead. The flashes of video that Karkat _does_ see make his bones ache. He’s feeling the strangest mix of emotions, watching this Dave. He’s relieved, because these guys aren’t _hurting_ him. Dave doesn’t seem to be under any influence, he looks like he’s honestly having fun at the club, even if it’s just to lose himself in the moment.

Another part burns with jealousy, watching these guys grind all over Dave. Watching them kiss him, bend him over a sink, pull his hair—

_ DON’T TOUCH HIM. _

Dave clicks away from the video, leaving behind the paused image of Dave getting fucked by one guy while sucking off the other, but the after-image burns in Karkat’s mind.

_ DON’T  _ **_ FUCKING _ ** _ TOUCH HIM. _

“Yeah,” Karkat says after a moment when he’s sure his voice will be steady, “let’s...keep looking.”

He scrolls down the screen, leaving behind the first five results and stopping on the next set. He sees one with Damara, recognizing her long black hair, and decides to click it on impulse. The thumbnail is just her dark, cold eyes looking into the camera, and it turns Karkat’s blood to ice, frozen in his veins.

The page loads, showing the bright red play button, and a title in the same colour at the bottom of the screen:

_ The Knight’s Punishment _

Karkat swallows. He presses play.

Dave forces himself to not flinch. There's any number of incidents this could be. There's-

His blood runs cold. He knows which one this is, but he can't bring himself to do anything, frozen in place.

Dave, done up in elegant shibari, suspended from the ceiling. His ankles tied to the center suspension rope so that, at rest, the soles of his feet are flat towards the ceiling. His arms tied behind his back, head hanging down. Blindfolded, gagged.

Helpless.

Dave feels cold as he listens to Damara's accented words. Telling Dave how bad he had been. How he needs _correction_ , because Damara doesn't tolerate _misbehaviors_.

She meant, of course, the time that Dave had called _Karkat's_ name instead of hers.

Dave squeezes his eyes shut as the first crack of the cane comes, striking across the soles of his feet. On screen, his past self jerks and lets out a muffled noise of shock and pain.

His feet ache in remembererance. At the second strike, his onscreen self shouts and makes a muffled pleading noise and Dave's hand snaps out and hits the spacebar, pausing the video.

The minute Karkat sees Dave bound, blindfolded, and gagged, he looks away. He doesn’t move his head, he doesn’t want Dave to think he’s looking away in disgust. He just...doesn’t need to watch this. The first ten seconds showed him all he needed to see. He doesn’t want to humiliate Dave even further by subjecting him to having someone he knows seeing him like this. He just looks over the top of his laptop and focuses on a random spot in the room. A book on his shelf. He tells himself the colours of the spines of the books...

Green. Red.

_ SNAP. _

Dave’s muffled noise of pain.

Black. Orange. White.

_ SNAP. _

Dave shouts behind his gag, he _pleads_ —

Karkat closes his eyes.

He feels Dave reach out to pause the video, the sounds of Dave’s muffled sobbing abruptly cutting out. Karkat opens his eyes again. Finishes listing off the colours of the books on the first row in his shelf.

Yellow. Blue.

He can still hear the sound of Dave being struck. He can still hear Dave’s muffled cry.

“Do you need to stop?” Karkat whispers. He clicks the back button, away from video. Off the closeup of Dave’s pained face.

Dave breathes slowly.

Karkat's quiet words, his lack of judgment, his _unwavering_ support- it's all making this... better. No, not better- _easier_ somehow. Like he can actually breathe, like.. it's not... as bad.

"No." He mumbles. "I'm okay." Honestly, he feels kind of disconnected from what's happening. He gives a weak little sigh.

"I remember that." He says quietly. "That was..." He winces a little in memory.

"She was _furious_ with me." Dave murmurs. "I didn't know she filmed it."

Karkat rubs his hand up and down Dave’s shoulder as Dave slowly inhales and exhales several times.

Dave’s says he’s okay, but Karkat doesn’t move the screen or click on another video. Wants to give Dave all the time he needs.

He reaches over and brushes some hair behind Dave’s ear. He’d let it get longer since being in California. His hair was shorter than Karkat had ever seen it, in that first video. _Less there for those guys to grab onto_ , Karkat thinks, that weird jealousy building inside him again at the thought.

Dave didn’t know she’d filmed it. Unlike the first video, where Dave was very much aware. Remembered the club, and those men. Dave remembers this one too, but he hadn’t known she was filming it. His _punishment_.

“Why was she so angry?” Karkat finds himself asking.

It didn’t matter. It _didn’t_ matter, Dave could have done _anything_ to this person and Karkat would call it justified—

He supposed he just wanted to know whatever pathetic excuse this monster had to hurt Dave so that Karkat can hate her even more.

Dave feels his face get hot. It's- embarrassing, in a sense.

He almost doesn't want to say, but... He swallows, stomach squirming, flushing harder.

It's a vivid memory, getting railed into her silken sheets, squriming and whining and getting caught up in the moment, the drag of her fingernails down his back, the thick, unyeilding fuck of her strap into him, then her hand had sunk into his hair and pulled it up and-

"I called your name." Dave mumbles. "Instead of hers."

Dave’s words hit Karkat like a ton of bricks.

He’s reeling from the impact for a moment, staring off at nothing. There’s a multitude of emotions that hit him like blows, and he has to take a moment to experience each one.

The first one, oddly enough, is triumph. What a fucking slap to the face that must have been for Damara, to be fucking Dave and have it be so _good_ that Dave forgets where he is and calls out for _Karkat_.

A twisted, ugly, spiteful part inside of him is _grinning_ like a fucking fox, smug as shit.

That feeling is incredibly fleeting, lasting only a second and a half before _no_ —he pushes it all the way the fuck down— _NO_ , what the fuck, this was nothing to be fucking GLAD about.

Dave got _hurt_. Damara _punished_ Dave for—

For loving Karkat.

For calling out _his_ name.

This was all his fault, this was—

No.

This was about Dave.

He looks at Dave, finally. He’s embarrassed, a red flush painting his cheeks, he’s curled in close to Karkat’s side. Karkat sees his throat bob as Karkat looks over, but he doesn’t meet Karkat’s gaze.

“Hm,” Karkat hums thoughtfully, reaching over and brushing the knuckle of his index finger along Dave’s warm cheek. “Remember that thing you said about breaking the world record for blushing?”

That makes Dave look up, even if just for a moment. Karkat will take it.

“Here’s your next world record,” Karkat murmurs, “Next time I’m fucking you, I’ll make you scream my name so loud that cunt can hear it all the way in California.”

Dave waits for Karkat to say something- say _anything_ , feeling himself get more and more embarrassed, swallowing as Karkat finally looks over to him, but not quite able to meet his gaze.

Yeah, he called _Karkat_ 's name, but even still- it's-

God, it's _humiliating_. His toes curl restlessly, feeling the ghost strikes of the cane across his soles, stinging and hot.

But then Karkat is touching him, running his finger so soft and gentle down his cheek, and Dave finally looks up to meet Karkat's gaze.

Karkat's expression- it's _furious_ and _hungry_ \- and Dave feels a shiver slide down his spine at his words.

" _O-okay._ " he manages, flushing _harder_. "That- that sounds good." He squeaks, his hand slowly closing in Karkat's shirt.

Karkat puts his hand over the hand Dave has clutched into his shirt, rubbing his thumb along the soft skin on the back of Dave’s hand.

“Should we keep going?” Karkat asks, “Or should I just submit these all to the police now, save us the trouble.”

His hand squeezes around Dave’s.

“You _didn’t know she was filming_ , Dave.” Karkat whispers. “How many of these videos did you know got posted? There’s over two _fucking_ hundred of them. How many more _scenes_ did she do that you have no idea got recorded? How many of them are stuff you can’t even remember? And _why_ don’t you remember? Maybe she got you drunk. Or...she could have _drugged_ you.”

A hard, bitter laugh breaks out of Karkat before he can stop it. “She should be in fucking _jail_ for just this video alone. She posted these without you knowing about it, she _tortured_ you for her own sick pleasure, she _raped_ you—“

Dave flinches. "N-no." He stutters. "Don't- Karkat, _don't_." His heart is pounding. He feels dizzy. "It wasn't- it wasn't like _that_ -"

Submitting them to the police. Oh _god_ no, please- Karkat _can't_. He can't- Dave can't go through that- He can't handle it.

His hand is gripping Karkat's shirt tighter, his breath hitching.

He feels sick. He wasn't- he wasn't _raped_. Dave knows there _were_ times where she- where she did that shit, but- but it wasn't _rape_.

“What do you mean it wasn’t?” Karkat says, looking at Dave incredulously, “Of—of _course_ it was!”

Dave’s hand is gripping into his shirt tightly, and Dave’s face is a contorted mix of shock and fear. Karkat’s heart aches at the sight.

A small voice in the back of his mind cries out. _No, stop_ —

But Karkat’s blood has boiled over now. It’s been on a simmer all day, ever since Dave mentioned her name. And now that’s he’s seen first-hand what she did—and only a _fraction_ of it, at that—Karkat is seeing _red_.

“How the fuck could it not be?” Karkat says, slapping his fingers against the laptop screen, where all the thumbnails of Dave still sit there, hanging over them like a black cloud. “You told me she was someone you couldn’t say no to,” Karkat growls, “So you went along with what she wanted because letting her have her way was better than saying no. Look what she did to you just for saying _my fucking name_ , I can’t imagine what this fucking psychopath would do if you turned her down.”

Karkat can feel his voice getting louder. The small voice in the back of his mind is drowned out to a tiny whisper.

_Stop. Stop this, you have to stop_ —

** FUCK YOU. SHUT UP. **

“ _She’s_ the one who needs to be FUCKING _punished_!”

_Of course it was_.

_ Of course you were  _ **_ raped _ ** _ you stupid whore. _

Dave flinches back at the slap against the computer screen, hand releasing Karkat's shit.

"N-no-" He stutters, fear pulsing through his veins. "I- I wasn't-"

_ I wasn't- I didn't- I'm not pathetic. I'm  _ **_ not _ ** _ pathetic, I wasn't- I didn't  _ **_ get raped _ ** _ \- It's not- _

Dave slides backwards on bed, away from Karkat. Away from his rage, his heart pounding. There's fear, pulsing in his veins, but- there's something furious, too-

_ I wasn't  _ **_ fucking RAPED _ ** _ \- How dare you- you think you know anything about what happened to me- _

"SHUT UP!" It tears from Dave's throat, but the moment it does he feels his heart stop.

He throws himself backwards, pressing into the wall, and all is he can see is _Bro_ , a streak of movement towards him, all he can see is _Damara_ , with furious, flint-sharp black eyes-

" _Sorrysorrysorrysorry-_ " He gasps, cringing.

Karkat snaps out of his tirade when he hears Dave _scream_.

He’s—standing? When had he gotten up out of the bed?

He looks over at Dave with wide eyes, and feels something inside him shrivel up and fucking die. Dave is pinned up against the wall, looking _terrified_. He’d just yelled at Karkat, his shout could have shaken the walls—but now he’s pressed up against the headboard, gasping for breath as he apologizes over and over.

“What the fuck?” Karkat whispers.

He turns around and looks at Dave, a blank expression on his face.

“Why are you _apologizing_?” Karkat can feel anger leaking back into his voice again. “You were just pissed at me, weren’t you?”

He doesn’t make a move toward Dave. He doesn’t dare move a fucking muscle. He doesn’t want to scare him any more than he already has. In fact he doesn’t want Dave scared at all.

He wants Dave angry.

And if he can’t get mad at Damara, or his Bro—then Karkat would just have to be the stand-in.

“Fuck this, Dave, get ANGRY!” Karkat barks at him, “You should be fucking INFURIATED with what those sick fucks did to you. Yeah, you got raped—and you know what? That’s not your FUCKING FAULT! It doesn’t make you _weak_ , or _pathetic_ , or whatever other stupid fucking horseshit things those _motherfuckers_ said to make you feel like you were—like you _deserved_ it.”

Karkat slams one of his palms against his chest. “And if you can’t get angry, then FINE. I’ll be fucking angry for both of us! And if you need to get angry but can’t get angry at them, then get angry at ME! Scream at me, _hit_ me, make me feel what you felt, take your fucking control back, I don’t care—as long as you admit to yourself that it _fucking happened_!”

Karkat's blank, blank blank blank and its Bro all over again, it's Bro waiting for Dave to finish his sentence, to doom himself, waiting for Dave to move forwards so that Bro can strike out-

and Karkat's snapping and Dave is cringing back- he doesn't know what's safe, he doesn't know what he can say- Bro was _easy_ , stay out of his way, say sorry and take the hit, Damara was rough but once it's done it's done- but Karkat- Dave doesn't know what to do, doesn't know how Karkat will react.

He snaps his mouth shut. Karkat yelled at him for apologizing. Don't apologize. Don't apologize. Don't do it-

_no, no I wasn't-_ his heart is crying out, sobbing, protesting. _I didn't, I didn't, I wanted it, I wanted it-_

_Did you?_ his gut whispers uncomfortably.

Karkat is shouting and Dave is still. Don't apologize. Don't apologize don't apologize don't apologize what are the rules what are the rules what are the _rules_ -

"Karkat-" He gasps. Don't cry don't cry that makes people angrier don't apologize he doesn't know what to _do_ -

“Dave,” Karkat says, firmly. An order. “ _Get angry_.”

He steps forward now, just one step.

“Get _angry at me_.” Karkat says. “Call me whatever they called you.

Whatever they did to you, do it to _me_.” He picks his laptop off his bed and shuts it with a loud snap.

“Fuck whatever’s on there,” Karkat says as he sets his laptop off to the side. “Fuck whatever you can’t remember.”

He crawls onto the bed, slowly, up towards Dave.

“ _Use_ me,” Karkat whispers, “I swear to fucking god I won’t hurt you, Dave. Just use me. Whatever makes you feel better. Whatever makes it easier to bear. Whatever they took from you...”

Karkat comes right up in front of Dave, on his knees between Dave’s legs.

“Use me to take it the _fuck_ **back**.”

Karkats advancing- hes moving forwards and Dave _flinches_ at the _snap_ of the laptop closing, staying still as Karkat slowly slides onto the bed, shifting up it to be between Dave's legs and Dave feels a familiar limpness come over him, ready for Karkat to yank him close and just shove into his body-

he doesn't.

_Use me,_ Karkat says instead, telling Dave to do what they did to Dave to Karkat-

"No." He croaks, trembling at the idea. "I- I can't. I _won't_ "

He _won't_ hurt Karkat like that.

"I won't. I _won't_ , I won't-" Dave is pressing back with every denial, pulling in tighter and he shouldn't be, he should be loose, take the hit, take the dick, be loose to take whatever punishment Karkat gives him for disobedience but Dave can't, he can't, he _can't_ -

Karkat’s jaw twitches with the force it takes to keep his stony expression from crumbling at the sight of Dave right now.

He reaches up, slow, _so slowly_ —Dave’s already so _frightened_ and confused and Karkat doesn’t want to make it worse.

Karkat runs his hand through Dave’s hair, gentle, _so gentle_. He brings up his other hand just as slowly, and cups his hand on Dave’s cheek. He runs his hand down Dave’s jaw, down to his chin. He runs the pad of his thumb across Dave’s mouth, parting his lips.

“You won’t do it?” Karkat asks, voice as soft and gentle as his touch. “That’s too bad. Maybe some other time.”

He slides his thumb pasts Dave’s lips into his mouth.

“Then, in the meantime,” Karkat murmurs, “Let me do it. _I’ll_ take it all back. I’ll hold onto it until you’re ready. I’ll take everything they did and make it _good_. Treat you the way you _deserve_.”

His hands in Dave’s hair grip slightly. Only slightly, the smallest, subtlest of touches. Karkat pulls the tip of his thumb from Dave’s mouth.

“How does that sound, baby? Think you can handle that?” Karkat leans down so he can whisper his next words in Dave’s ear. “ _Do you want Daddy to make it all better?_ ”

Karkat's hands come up and it's _slow_ \- Dave doesn't flinch, it's so slow and telegraphed- and they run so _gently_ through Dave's hair he feels like he's going to cry.

It's _gentle_ , gentle- Karkat's hands are so gentle, they're so gentle and Dave _does_ tear up again. The touch over his cheeks over his mouth- it's so fucking _soft_ and loving and it's chasing away the fear, chasing away the bubbling, churning ache in his belly, replacing it with something softer, _sweeter_ -

_ Oh- _

Karkat presses his thumb into Dave's mouth. The sweetness sparks and shivers, heat slipping up his spine. Karkat's words are pouring into him, filling him up, pulling him back into his body, grounding him.

A low noise slips from his throat as the grip changes in his hair. Pulling slightly. Dave feels his eyes flutter slightly.

_This_ , he knows. He feels himself relax into the grip- if this is how Karkat wants to be angry, it's alright, Dave can take it. He can take what Karkat thinks he _deserves_.

_ Daddy daddy daddy- _

Dave's eyes go wide. _Oh-_ His face goes hot, squirming heat sliding down his spine.

There's only one answer.

His eyes flutter shut and he nods, a tiny little noise in his throat. "P-please, _daddy_ -" He whimpers and trembles a little in Karkat's hold.

When the word falls out of Dave’s lips in that small whimper, it’s like a tether inside Karkat breaks.

The twisted, spiteful, smug part of him that he’d pushed deep, deep down, then tied down with a thick cord—it’s been pulling at it’s restraints this entire time. Growling and panting, mouth dripping like a beast.

Wanting to swallow Dave whole.

Maybe that desire that’s been pooling in Karkat’s belly all night—that desire to be _taken_ , to be pinned down and _fucked_ and eaten alive—it wasn’t directed at himself. He still wanted that, too, but not right now—Dave _needed_ him. He needed Karkat to take everything away, to carry it within himself and mold it into something good, and then give it back.

Dave couldn’t take it for himself, he wasn’t capable of it. Karkat had to reach inside Dave himself, like he was digging into his chest cavity to pull out his heart and clean it, and push it back inside.

Karkat pulled his fingers from Dave’s hair, and moved backwards. He moves down to the end of the bed, and stands. He looks down at Dave, still pressed up against the headboard, eyes blown wide, his face bright red, chest heaving for breath.

Karkat runs his tongue along his top lip in anticipation, then crosses his arms and peels off Dave’s shirt. He tosses it aside, then crawls back onto the bed, looking at Dave like _prey_.

He grabs Dave by the ankles and _pulls_ , dragging him down until he’s sprawled out on the bed, flat on his back. Then Karkat continues his ascension, crawling up until he’s hovering over Dave, straddling his hips. He grabs Dave by the wrists and pins his arms above his head with one hand, using the other to grab Dave by the chin, holding his gaze.

Then Karkat _swoops_ down, crushing his lips to Dave’s furiously in a deep kiss. It quickly turns messy, Karkat prying Dave’s mouth open with his teeth, tugging at his bottom lip. He lunges again, shoving his tongue in Dave’s mouth, swirling their tongues together.

Dave's eyes go wide as Karkat pulls back to strip his shirt off, but he doesn't move- he doesn't know what's allowed- so he just stays put, waiting for Karkat to do something or tell him what to do.

Not Karkat- _Daddy_.

If Karkat wants to be Daddy, then he'll be daddy- even if it makes Dave flushed and embarrassed, even if it makes him want to hide his face and whine.

So when Daddy pulls his shirt on and crawls up the bed again, looking at Dave like he wants to _devour_ him, Dave trembles a little, his mouth going dry, and gasps as Daddy yanks him down the bed.

"A-ah-" He gasps, Daddy crawling up his body and pinning him down sending _heat_ racing through him, making him dizzy. He stares up at Daddy, face hot, belly hot, _everything_ hot.

He feels stripped to the core as Daddy holds his gaze for a long moment. Daddy's expression is _hungry_ and _furious_ and so very, very very dark, full of _promise_.

Dave feels like he should be saying something, begging for forgiveness or mewling and arching up but he feels _paralyzed_ , trapped under Daddy, unable to move or respond.

But then he doesn't have to think anymore because Daddy is diving in and claiming Dave's mouth, _taking_ what he wants, consuming and claiming, stealing all words from Dave, all thoughts and ability to do anything but whine as he's devoured, whine as he's eaten up, as Daddy pours _fire_ into him, into his lungs, into his belly, igniting him and burning away everything that isn't Daddy-

isn't _Karkat_.

Dave _whines_ against Karkat’s mouth as he kisses him, hard and rough. He doesn’t push against Karkat’s hands, doesn’t try to break away. He’s limp and pliant beneath Karkat right now, giving him full control.

Karkat breaks away from their kiss, and lets go of Dave’s wrists slowly.

“Time for rules,” Karkat says. “Stay put.”

He swings his leg over Dave and gets up off the bed. He looks over at his book shelf again, at all the different coloured spines, and an idea comes to him. As Karkat pops the latch off his belt, and pulls it out of the belt loops on his jeans, he starts to speak.

“I’m going to give you three colours,” Karkat says, “Red, yellow, green. Pretty self-explanatory, maybe you’ve had to use them before. Maybe nobody gave you the option. But I’m going to.”

Karkat steps forwards and wraps Dave’s wrists up with the belt. Dave hasn’t moved a muscle, his arms still placed above his head. Just like Karkat wants him.

“Green if you’re good. Yellow if you need me to hold back, give you a moment to breathe. Red if you need it to stop.” Karkat explains, securing the belt around Dave’s wrists, and then giving them a tug to test their hold. “Sound good, baby? Is the belt too tight?”

Daddy pulls back and leave Dave panting on the bed, shaky and panting, gaze fluttering slightly. "O-okay..." He stutters out.

_Stay put. Stay put._ He can't deny the relief at the words, telling him what to do. He's getting rules- they'll tell him how to be good. he can be good.

He stays put as Daddy starts speaking, and he can't help his confusion. He looks up at Daddy as he belts Dave's wrists together, his brow furrowing.

_Stop?_ Why would he need to _stop_ , that's not- that's not something that _happens_.

But Daddy's asking if it's okay, so Dave nods. "Sounds good, Daddy." He murmurs, and bites his lip as the word slides from his mouth, squirming a little at the shivery feeling in his belly.

Dave’s brow is furrowed and he’s biting his lip when Karkat pulls back, and he squirms a little on the bed.

Karkat presses his thumb into the crease between Dave’s eyebrows, rubbing along the skin as though to smooth it down. Dave’s confused by these rules, by the option to _stop_. And it tears Karkat’s heart in two.

Karkat leans down and brushes his lips softly against Dave’s. “Good boy,” he whispers, peppering soft kisses on Dave’s lips, up his nose, to that crease in his forehead. “I’ll make you feel _so good_ , baby, I promise. Keep your arms up for me, baby, and sit up.”

Karkat pushes a hand under Dave’s neck and guides him to sit upright, keeping his arms in the air. Karkat pulls (his!) sweater and shirt off of Dave, and—

Ah, fuck. With Dave’s hands bound, the shirts get caught by Dave’s wrists. Karkat hadn’t thought about that. But he’ll be damned if he fucking lets himself break character now. He pushes a hand into Dave’s bare chest, guiding him to lie back down on the bed.

Then Karkat undoes Dave’s pants and yanks them down his legs, chucking them away. Now Dave is stretched out on Karkat’s bed completely naked, and bound by the wrists.

Karkat feels his mouth water at the sight.

Karkat decides to not give Dave the same view he has, keeping on his jeans as he climbs back onto the bed.

“I don’t want to hurt you, baby,” Karkat says softly as he leans down, brushing Dave’s hair out of his eyes, “I _won’t_ hurt you, I swear. That’s rule number two—if it’s ever too much, if it ever hurts, and not in a good way, you _tell_ me. You say ‘red’ and I’ll stop everything. No matter what, no questions asked.”

Karkat leans down to kiss Dave, soft and sweet, the opposite to the rough and hard kiss from before.

“Want you feeling good, baby, let me take you there,” Karkat breathes against their mouths, “Gonna claim every inch of you, make every part of you _mine_ again.”

Karkat pulls away. “Do you want that, baby? Want me to make you _mine_?”

Daddy's touching his face and stroking his forehead and Dave feels his brow relax, some of his confusion flooding away. He doesn't need to _think_. It doesn't matter what's happening- Daddy'll take care of it.

_Good boy_.

Dave flushes at the praise. Daddy thinks he's good. That means Daddy isn't mad- that means- that means this won't _hurt_ , right? Daddy is kissing all along his face, gentle and soft and it's making Dave's heart do all kinds of funny flips and lurches.

So he sits up and lets Daddy undress him, leaving his sweater and shirt tangled up around Dave's wrists, which- that only makes him _more_ trapped, more at Daddy's mercy- and that's a relief.

The more Dave is trapped- the more he doesn't get a choice- the more _relaxed_ he feels. The easier it is. He doesn't have to care, he doesn't have to have an opinion, he just has to feel and do whatever Daddy wants.

Daddy gets Dave's jeans off and then climbs back on, and he's brushing Dave's hair back and Dave feels _dizzy_ with how soft everything feels.

Daddy wont hurt him. He's promising- and a new rule, a rule that Dave can cling to and be _good_ with-

Red to stop. _Red to stop_.

Dave- Dave doesn't know what to feel. You _don't stop scenes_ but- but Daddy says _red to stop_ and _hurting not in a good way_ and _red to stop_ but you _don't stop scenes_.

Dave doesn't know- but then Daddy is kissing him softly and Dave's melting into it and he doesn't have to think. He just has to be kissed softly and be Daddy's.

_Please. I wanna be yours._ Dave trembles, his feet flexing a little as he nods. "Wanna be yours." He says, voice weak. "All yours- _daddy_." He shudders out a exhale. The word sits funny in his mouth, settling in his belly and making him want to squirm and pull away- but he can't. He's trapped.

All he can do is bite his lip and wait- wait for Daddy to _use_ him.

“That’s right, baby, you’re mine,” Karkat says, stroking Dave’s cheek. “That’s my good boy, so perfect for me, baby.”

Karkat presses one last kiss to Dave’s lips, then on his chin. Crawling down, pressing another into the middle of his clavicle. Further, his sternum. Just below his belly button, right before the thatch of hair leading down to his cock.

Karkat’s mouth ghosts over Dave’s cock, only his warm breath fanning across Dave’s skin, and he sneers maliciously over the tease.

“I’ll come back when you’re _ready_ for me, baby,” Karkat says, keeping his mouth close to Dave’s cock without actually touching, just letting his lips barely brush across. “Gotta get you feeling good first.”

Karkat keeps moving down, and his bottom half is sliding off the edge of the bed now as he presses kisses down Dave’s thighs, not neglecting either side. The tops of his knees. Down his calves.

Karkat’s crouched on the floor at the end of the bed now, and hiking up one of Dave’s legs. He presses a kiss to the side of Dave’s ankle, on the protruding bone. Then he moves around to kiss the top of Dave’s foot, kissing down, down to his toes, then back up again. He runs his hand up Dave’s calf in a deep massage as he presses kisses all over Dave’s foot.

It’s such a contradiction, having Dave bound but Karkat on his knees, kissing his feet. It’s like kneeling at a statue of Jesus, bound to the cross. Dave’s at his mercy to be completely and utterly _worshiped_.

Karkat runs both hands down Dave’s calf, over the top of his foot, then gently takes Dave’s ankle and guides his leg back down. Then Karkat repeats the process with the other leg, kissing all over Dave’s foot, keeping his eyes on Dave the entire time.

Daddy's calling him _his_ and _perfect_ and the praise goes right through him, down to his cock, making it swell. Daddy kisses down his body, over his belly, and barely ghosts over his cock, making Dave whine softly. The he keeps going down, pressing kisses over and over and over as he works his way down Dave's legs, over his calfs and-

Dave lets out a little shocked squeal as Daddy _touches his feet_. He jerks slightly, unease and a strange, reflexive fear jolting through him.

"D-Daddy-" Dave whines uncertainly, his thighs trembling with the effort it takes to stay still, toes flexing a little, elbows jolting as his hands open and close, a restless energy prickling through his legs.

"I-I-" he whimpers softly. He wants so _badly_ to kick, to jolt and twist away but he _can't_ he'll kick Daddy and Daddy'll be _mad_.

“Yes, baby?” Karkat asks gently, still pressing kisses up the top of Dave’s foot. He can feel Dave’s legs trembling. “Too much, sweetheart? Or not enough?”

He stops kissing Dave’s feet just in case it _is_ the former, but keeps his hands there. Karkat runs his hands over the tops of Dave’s feet, massaging them gently.

“That‘s rule three, baby,” Karkat says, “Gotta be vocal, tell your Daddy what’s on your mind. Let me know what’s happening in there, okay, baby?”

His thumbs press into the sides of Dave’s ankles, rubbing slow circles.

“Tell your Daddy what you want like a good boy and I’ll give it to you, baby.” Karkat murmurs, “I see you trying to get hard for me again, baby boy, doing _such_ a good job. You want Daddy’s help getting hard, baby? Come on, tell me what you need, and I’ll help you, I’ll take care of you, baby.”

Daddy stops the kisses and now Dave doesn't have to be worried about kicking him in the face, so that's a relief- his touch is still sending the nervous trembles through his legs, but it's not as desperate.

_Rule three, rule three._ The words are an anchor line and Dave latches onto them. _Talk to Daddy, tell him what I'm feeling._

"O-okay, Daddy." Dave whispers, shivering. "I- I don't know what I want." He breathes. "I want-" He squeezes his eyes shut, a shuddering breath going through him. "I wanna be good for you." He whines. Daddy's praise is rocking through him and it's making him tremble and flush harder, shifting restlessly.

Karkat climbs back onto the bed, pulling up Dave’s legs so he’s got both of them spread and bent, and Karkat sits between them, his hands on Dave’s knees. He gives them a reassuring squeeze.

“That’s okay, baby,” he says, leaning over to kiss one knee, then the other, “That’s okay, we’ll figure it out together, yeah? I’ll explore every inch of you and we’ll find out what you like best, and we’ll keep doing whatever that is. You don’t want your feet touched right now, that’s alright, baby. You did _so_ good, giving it a try. It’s a lot, right?”

Karkat runs his hands up and down Dave’s thighs with a deep pressure, his palms and pads of his fingers working into the muscles, trying to work out every knot, trying to soothe every part of Dave that was tense.

“Maybe we can keep trying that some other time, yeah?” Karkat says, “Keep trying it little by little until you don’t feel like it’s a bad touch anymore? I want to make it all better, honey, I want to make _every_ touch good. You deserve to feel good all the time, sweetheart. We’ll get there, as long as it takes, baby.”

Karkat scoots forwards until his hips are pressed against Dave’s, his jeans pressing against Dave’s cock as he leans down to kiss Dave’s cheeks, his nose, then his lips.

“Deserve to be _adored_ ,” Karkat whispers, kissing him again and again, “Treated like something _precious_ , because you _are_. You’re the most important thing in the world to me, baby. Want you to know how much you mean to me, want you to be able to feel it, too.” Karkat kisses the corner of Dave’s mouth, over his cheek, to his ear. He nips on the lobe gently. “You want to be good for Daddy, baby? Then you do that, you tell yourself you deserve _this_. No pain, no punishment. _This_ is all you need. Me taking care of you, making you feel good, feel _loved_ , fucking _worshiped_.”

Karkat rolls his hips against Dave, slow and firm, feeling his own cock jerk in response.

Daddy settles between Dave's legs and Dave bites his lip because-

It- It _did_ feel good, to get his feet touched. It was horrible and he wanted to kick out and struggle but there was a part of his brain sobbing and begging for more, a part of him that wanted to roll his eyes back and thrash and be _forced_ to take it-

But Daddy's not wrong so Dave nods a little, arching up under his hands, pressing into his touches. Daddy wants him to _feel good_ and he's kissing him so sweetly. Dave wants to touch so bad, wants to reach out but he can't, he's not allowed to-

he's- he's telling Dave to say he _deserves_ this and something inside Dave is twisting, protesting, making him feel ill because he _doesn't_ , but Daddy's _Daddy_ \- Dave can't disobey him-

He shifts and squirms and Daddy's rolling his hips, rocking against him and Dave's squeezing his eyes shut, moaning softly, he doesn't want to say it, doesn't want to _lie_ to Daddy, but-

"I-" He chokes out. "I-" He breaks off into a little whine. He can't say it, he can't, because he _doesn't_ deserve it.

"I _can't_ , I'm sorry Daddy-" He gasps, voice breaking on _Daddy_ , eyes flooding with tears. "I can't-"

“Shh, shh, shh, _honey_ ,” Karkat soothes, feeling his heart squeezing painfully as Dave’s voice breaks. “That’s okay, baby, it’s okay if you can’t right now. Baby steps. If you can’t believe it right now, I’m just gonna have to keep working hard to make you feel good until you _do_.”

Karkat wipes at Dave’s teary eyes with his knuckle. “It doesn’t even have to be tonight. You take as long as you need. I know it’s hard to believe when all you’ve been told for so long is the opposite. But it’s not true, baby. Would I lie to you?”

Karkat cups the side of Dave’s face, his hand just over his ear, fingers pushing into Dave’s hair, his thumb stroking over Dave’s cheekbone.

“I don’t want you to say it until you believe it, baby,” Karkat says, “So you’re a good boy, being honest and telling me you can’t do it right now. No need to be sorry, honey, I’m _proud_ of you. You don’t want to lie to your Daddy, such a good boy, so _perfect_...”

Karkat rocks his hips against Dave again in another deep grind as reward, watching hungrily as Dave’s back arches against the sheets.

“Doing so fucking well so far, baby. Absolutely perfect, so good for me...” Karkat groans as he rolls his hips again, feeling his cock _lurch_ in his jeans. “Gonna make you feel so good, sweetheart, you’ve earned it.”

Karkat leans down and kisses Dave again, a deep and slow press. Firm but gentle. Then he pulls away, and slides down Dave’s body, until he’s on his stomach between Dave’s legs.

Karkat runs one hand up and down Dave’s hip. The other comes up and presses his thumb against Dave’s perineum, starting a deep massage. Karkat watches Dave’s cock twitch in response, filling out even more.

“Look at that,” Karkat breathes, “Good job, baby, almost ready for me.” Karkat keeps up the massage as he kisses along the inside of Dave’s thighs, gently nipping at the skin, laughing softly when it makes Dave’s legs twitch, his breath hitch.

“ _So_ adorable,” Karkat murmurs against Dave’s skin.

Dave's expecting punishment for not being able to follow Daddy's order, so when Daddy tells him it's okay, he feels _dizzy_ with confusion, as Daddy wipes away his tears.

Disobedience means punishment. Daddy's not punishing him _now_ which means he'll be punishing him _later_ \- is Daddy going to punish Dave at the end for all his rule breaking and disobedience?

The idea makes Dave shiver in fright. He clings to the rules. _Rule one red to stop, Rule two, no bad hurt, Rule three, talk to daddy._ He clings to the rules, he hasn't broken any, he hasn't-

Daddy's touching him so gently still and telling him he's _proud_ of Dave- he's proud of Dave for _not lying_ even though he disobeyed an order-

Hidden rule one- _no lying_. Dave burns it into his memory. That's why Daddy isn't mad- because Dave was following a hidden rule. His anxiety bleeds away and hes able to moan at the jolt of pleasure as Daddy rocks against him.

"Daddy..." He whines, and then gasps as Daddy does the motion _again_ , making his cock jump as it tries to get hard. He mewls up into Daddy's kiss, tugging at his wrists, he wants to _touch_ -

Then Daddy's pulling away and Dave whines softly in disappointment but oh, _oh-_ Daddy's touching him between his legs and it feels so _good_ that Dave feels his thighs go tense, cock twitching and getting harder as Dave pants.

"Daddy, daddy-" the more he says it, the easier, less embarrassing it is and the more it just stokes the fire in his belly. " _Daddy_ , please, feels good-" He moans as Daddy starts nipping at his thighs, his stomach jumping, his breath coming quicker.

"Da-aaddy-" He whines.

Dave’s moans make Karkat’s insides _burn_ with an overwhelming heat. Every time Dave calls him _daddy_ that creature inside him _roars_ —

_ Yes, baby, I’m yours, I’m your beast. _

_ I’ll take care of you, I’ll protect you, I’ll make sure nobody  _ **_ ever _ ** _ hurts you again. _

Karkat squeezes Dave’s hips, pressing into his bruises as he looks up at Dave through his dark lashes. “Yeah, baby? Feels good? That’s good, baby, you’re doing so well—“

Karkat leans forward and licks a thick, slow stripe up Dave’s perineum, from the edge of Dave’s entrance to his balls. He gives his balls teasing kitten licks, watching with one eye open and a smirk on his lips as it makes Dave’s cock bounce.

“There we go, baby, that’s my good boy,” Karkat whispers, his warm breath fanning across the base of Dave’s hard cock. “Being so good, baby, can’t wait to taste you on my tongue.”

Karkat positions himself above Dave’s cock, and squeezes it at the base as he looks up at Dave. “Tell me your colour, angel,” Karkat says huskily, “You want Daddy to suck your cock, make you feel real good?”

Daddy's touching his hips and the bruises there _(Daddy's bruises)_ throb, making him shudder. Daddy's taking such good care of him, making him feel good, his tongue on Dave's body makes Dave whine, tiny little licks of pleasure flicking through him, making his cock jerk, making his breath catch.

"Y-eah-" He whines. "Feels good..."

Daddy asks for a color.

Dave feels a spike of fear. _Red to stop_ , but he doesn't want to stop, he doesn't- was there more? Is Daddy telling him to ask to stop, is he trying to get Dave to stop the scene?

_ You  _ **_ don't stop scenes _ ** _ - _

He squirms, not sure what to do, fear beating in his veins. "I- I don't know-" He chokes out. "Daddy, I don't-" He bites his lip, he doesn't know, he _don't know_ , what's the right thing to do, what's the right answer? What does he do, what does he- what does Daddy want, does Daddy want him to stop so he can punish him for stopping?

Dave trembles, squeezing his eyes shut- he can't see Daddy's disappointment, he can't-

Dave is saying _I don’t know_ , biting his lips, squeezing his eyes shut, _trembling_ —

Karkat takes his hands off Dave right away. He pushes himself up on the mattress, giving Dave space. Dave still has his eyes squeezed shut, his breath coming out in broken sobs.

Okay, pause. “Dave,”

Karkat says softly, “Dave, hey, hey—come on, look at me, just look at me...”

Karkat reaches up and pulls the bundle of shirts that are tangled in Dave’s wrists down so that he can get to the belt to loosen it. He pulls the belt away and tosses it to the floor, finally able to free Dave’s arms from the shirts as well, and throwing those away too.

“Shh, shh, shh—look at me, D, it’s okay, man, shhh...” Karkat wraps his arms around Dave’s shoulders and pulls him into a hug, rubbing his hand up and down Dave’s back, the other stroking through his hair.

“Did you forget the colours, bud?” Karkat murmurs into Dave’s shoulder, “That’s okay, I was giving you a lot to remember. There was a lot going on all at once, huh? I got so distracted I bound your wrists before getting your shirt off. Fucking rookie mistake, right? I ought to buy _BDSM For Dummies_. It’s okay, we can slow things down.”

Dave’s still trembling in his arms. Karkat squeezes him tighter.

“It was green, yellow, and red,” Karkat explains softly, running his fingers through Dave’s hair. “Just like a traffic light, right? Red to stop. Yellow, slow down. Green, go. We’re doing yellow right now, okay? This is what yellow looks like.”

Karkat pulls away to see if he can get Dave to meet his eyes. “Talk to me, D. Are you okay? What’s on your mind?” Karkat asks, “Look at me, babe, come on. You can talk to me, it’s just me. It’s me. I’m not upset, I’m—I’m never going to be upset with you, okay? Just tell me what’s going on.”

Daddy pulls away and Dave tries to be still, keeping his eyes squeezed shut. He doesn't know what Daddy has, what Daddy uses- will it be his hand, his- no, not his belt, his belt is around Dave's wrists, what's his punishment, what is it, whatisitwhatist-

_Look at me_ \- Dave's gaze snaps open, looking up at Daddy. Looking up as Daddy frees his wrists- _pleasenotthebelt_ -

It's tossed away and Dave wants to sob with relief. Doms who punish with belts- they're always the _worst_. Daddy's not like that. He's not- it's a _relief_. Daddy's hugging him, petting his hair and Dave doesn't understand, he didn't know, he was bad-

But Daddy's telling him _it's okay_ and _we'll slow down_ , so Dave squeezes his eyes shut as Daddy pets his hair.

_Green, yellow, red._ Dave clings to them. He forgot- he forgot about green and yellow, so focused on the _red to stop_. Green, yellow, red. Green, yellow, red. _Green is go, yellow is slow down, red is stop._

_You_ ** _don't stop-_** _This is yellow. This is safe. It's yellow. It's not stopping_.

Daddy is asking him to talk. Rule three.

"'M okay." Dave whispers. "Just- just forgot. 'M sorry, Daddy." He slowly meets Daddy's eyes, and-

They're _gentle_. He swallows thickly. "Want you." He murmurs. He feels so small, tucked in Daddy's arms. _Rule one, green, yellow, red. Rule two, no bad hurt. Rule three, talk to daddy. Hidden rule- don't lie._ He tells himself. "Green, yellow, red." He repeats, to show Daddy he was listening.

"I'm- I'm green."


	12. Chapter 12

Karkat’s lip quirks up in a little half smile, and he laughs softly, feeling his cheeks burn. He runs his hand through Dave’s hair gently.

“Dave, you don’t—you don’t need to call me that when we slow things down, alright? I’m Karkat, okay? Just Karkat. I’m _always_ Karkat. The _daddy_ thing is just—it’s just something, uhh...”

Karkat chews his lip and looks up at the ceiling. How to even explain this... “That’s just something for fun, you know?” Karkat tries. Hopefully that’s good enough. “I’m glad you’re green, though. I was worried I was pushing you too far there. Was the belt too tight? I’m sorry.”

Fuck, Karkat isn’t any good at this...this whole _dom_ thing. He was messing this up, he was only confusing Dave. There was probably a bunch of, like...weird secret codes and etiquette to this shit that Karkat just had no grasp on.

All he knew what that he didn’t want to hurt Dave, and that whatever he did to Dave it _had to be consensual_. If Dave was confused, or scared, or uncomfortable—Karkat would just rather do nothing at all than put Dave in that position.

“Forget the dumb belt, I—I like it better when you can touch me, anyway.” Karkat admits, and his ears are on _fire_ now. Fuck, this was so lame, so...so _subby_?? He was the worst dom, it was him. “W-we can try again, and you can put your hands in my hair. I like when you do that. Do you want to try that instead?”

Dave flushes harder. Daddy- _Karkat_ \- _Hidden rule two, Karkat when slow._ That's easy to remember. "Okay." He mumbles. "I liked the belt." It's easier when he doesn't have to think about where to put his hands. "I like touching you, too-" he adds, "but- um. Having my hands bound is nice."

In this, in _yellow_ , some of his nonessential functions are returning to him and he feels himself getting more embarrassed as his brain kicks back in again.

God, he really just crumpled under Karkat, huh? Dave isn't even going to _touch_ the events that led up to it, but- Karkat isn't going to hurt him. Karkat's _Karkat._ He'll take care of Dave and be gentle about it.

He swallows thickly. "Um." His face flushes harder. "That sounds good-" He wants to ask for something, but- "Can- Can I ask for stuff in yellow?"

Karkat nods along as Dave speaks. Okay, so Dave liked the belt. He likes to touch Karkat too, but...wants the belt. Maybe Karkat could...tie just one hand up. He eyes his headboard, which is made of iron bars. So kind of the perfect fucking headboard to tie Dave to. Karkat probably should have just done that in the first place. That would leave Dave with _some_ restraint, but still have one hand free if he wants to touch. Or leave it up to Karkat to decide _where_ he touches, and _when_? Karkat stomach flips as he goes over the options in his head.

Then Dave is asking if he can ask for things and—

Karkat blinks rapidly at the question. “Of—Of course you can, D.” he says, “You don’t have to be in yellow to ask. You can ask for things whenever you want. What is it, babe?”

Dave ducks his head and presses his face to Karkat's shoulder, feeling his face go hot.

"I liked it when you touched my feet." He mumbles, his arms curling loosely over his torso. "It felt- _bad_ , but- it was good, too." "But I- I don't wanna kick you."

He gets out, feeling more and more embarrassed with each word. "If- if you do it again- could you- tie my ankles?"

Oh.

_ Oh. _

Karkat hadn’t even considered _that_ option. He didn’t have anything in mind that had anything to do with Dave’s feet again, figuring that was just—not an option, right now.

But Dave said he _liked_ it. It was bad, but good? Bad _and_ good?

Karkat can’t seem to wrap his brain around the concept.

He doesn’t want to do anything to Dave that’s _bad_ , but—Dave is _asking_.

“O-okay, yeah—we can do that,” Karkat says, swallowing roughly. “Do...do you want your hands _and_ feet bound?”

Dave bites his lip and slowly nods. "Please." He whispers. He feels like Karkat is about two seconds away from calling him a freak, but- Karkat _said_ he wouldn't hurt Dave and that means emotionally too, right?

He clings to that and hesitantly glances up at Karkat, only to feel his face go _hotter_ as he meets Karkat's eyes, dark and the tiniest bit confused, but- _caring_. He drops his gaze again.

He feels squirmy all over, like his limbs are swimming with eels in his veins. He repeats the rules to try and settle himself.

_ Rule one, green-yellow-red, rule two, no bad hurt, rule three, talk to daddy, hidden rule one, no lying, hidden rule two, Karkat during yellow. _

Karkat nods again, his eyelashes fluttering in what he can only describe as disbelief.

_ He’s about to tie Dave up by his hands and feet. _

Karkat feels his mouth water again, the beast deep inside his guts, pushed down when he put everything on pause, starts to _purr_.

“O-Okay,” Karkat gulps, “I...have another belt in my drawer, um—hang on...” K

arkat gets up off the bed and walks over to his dresser drawer, pulling open the top one. He had two other belts— _okayokayokay_ —he pulls them both out and goes back over to the bed.

“Um, alright, so—“ _Goooooodddd_ he was so bad at this!

_ Come the fuck on, Vantas, put on your big boy pants and be good fucking dom for your fiancé. _

Karkat thinks back to when he watched Dave shift before his eyes. That slow inhale and exhale, and then his eyes went _dark_. The look had made Karkat’s heart _leap_ with anticipation.

He wants Dave to feel the same _rush_ he felt, the same excitement.

He _has_ to do this _right_. He _needs_ to be good for Dave, to make this good for him.

Karkat takes a deep, steadying breath, closing his eyes as he holds the breath for a moment. Exhales, and opens his eyes.

“Lie down, and hold up your arms.”

Dave squirms a little as Karkat pulls away, tucking his legs underneath him. The nervous energy is there, but he can tamp it down because D- because Karkat's going to tie him down and then it won't matter if he wiggles because he'll still be right where Karkat wants him.

He watches Karkat retrieve the belts and turn back to Dave and then he _switches_ and Dave knows that yellow is over.

Daddy tells him to move, so Dave does so, shifting to lie down on the bed, putting his wrists together above his head.

Dave does as he’s told, laying down on the bed and crossing his wrists together above his head. Karkat drops the two belts onto the bed, and then gathers the third one he dropped earlier back off the floor.

He starts with Dave’s wrists. Karkat takes one of Dave’s arms and gently coaxes it to to stretch until his hand meets the top right corner of the mattress. Karkat loops the belt through the bars of his headboard, and around Dave’s wrist.

Karkat checks the tightness, seeing if he can tuck his finger in between the belt and Dave’s wrist. Not too tight, but enough that Dave’s movement is definitely limited. But if he pulls against the restraints, it shouldn’t dig into his skin and hurt him. Then Karkat repeats the process with Dave’s other wrist. Standing back, Karkat admires his work so far, his heartbeat thudding loudly in his ears.

“If you ever feel like touching me, just let me know, and we can take one of these off for you,” Karkat says, stroking Dave’s arm. And then, because he feels he ought to reiterate his point from earlier, he adds, “You can ask for _anything_ whenever you want, Dave. Any colour. _Especially_ red. I need to know what I can do to help you if it ever gets to red, okay?”

Karkat moves down to the end of the bed, and picks up the last belt.

“Gonna tie your ankles now,” Karkat murmurs, feeling he should walk Dave through what he’s doing when it comes to these more trepidatious parts—these _good-bad_ things. “Just take a deep breath and relax for me.”

Karkat brings Dave’s ankles together and then loops the belt underneath. He ties this restraint as loose as it’ll go without Dave being able to just kick it right off, but enough that if Dave needs them off in a hurry that Karkat can easily get him free. That done, Karkat moves down to the end of the bed and starts to unbutton his jeans.

“You know how I said I wanted you to scream my name?” Karkat asks, leaning down to pull his jeans down and step out of them, his eyes still on Dave.

He doesn’t wait for Dave to reply. “Well, let’s try for that world record, huh?”

He gathers his jeans up in his hands and then tosses them off to the side. His eyes still on Dave.

“So, this time around, just call me by my name, alright?” Karkat says, crawling onto the bed and up towards Dave. “You leave all the pet names to me.” Karkat runs his hands through Dave’s bangs, brushing his hair back off his face.

“How’s all that sound?” Karkat murmurs softly, “Tell me your colour, D.”

Daddy ties Dave's wrists individually and Dave flexes his wrists a little, testing the tightness- it's good, and that makes him relax even more, knowing he doesn't have to worry about his arms now, doesn't have to worry about where to put them.

Daddy's giving him the _option_ to have one off later, if Dave wants to touch. He's saying that Dave can ask for anything, even though they're not in yellow. _Even red_.

_ (You don't stop scenes.) _

Dave swallows and nods. "Okay." He says softly, the conflict warring in his head as he watches Daddy move down and belt his ankles together and _oh_.

Dave feels good. He doesn't need to do anything. He can relax and let Daddy take care of him. He feels tension drain from his limbs as he watches Daddy undress, watches him crawl up the bed.

Oh. Karkat. Not Daddy, right now. Dave nods. "Sounds good." He breathes. "I- Karkat." He flexes his feet, his hands, taking a deep breath and letting it out. "Green." He says, after a moment. He wants this, wants anything Daddy's- anything _Karkat's_ going to give him.

The squirmy feeling in his veins is settling, settling into a familiar lazy pulsing so he chews on his lip and tilts his head up a little. "I'm green, Karkat." He whispers. "Give it to me."

Karkat grins. This was more like it.

“You got it, baby.”

Karkat looks down at Dave’s cock, which has gone down slightly, only half-hard after they slowed things down. Karkat clicks his tongue. That wouldn’t do.

“Now, where were we?” Karkat hums, leaning down by Dave’s hips. “I think I was...in the middle of something down here.”

Karkat props his elbow on the bed, and rests his chin in his hand. He taps his chin contemplatively, then reaches out and runs his fingertip up the length of Dave’s half-hard cock.

“Might need to jog my memory,” Karkat says, gently squeezing the head of Dave’s dick between his fingers, swiping his thumb along the slit. “If you ask me nicely, it might help me remember...”

Dave squirms a little at _baby_ , all the pet names are... nice. They make Dave feel so warm.

He watches Karkat examine Dave's cock and lightly touch it and Dave feels a soft little noise slip from him, the featherlight touch a _tease_.

 _Ask nicely_.

Dave takes in a shuddering breath, squirming in embarrassment, but it feels good, so he says, "Karkat, please- y-you were going to suck me off." But Karkat said _ask_ , so Dave shifts again and his voice comes out in a soft whine.

"Will you p-please put your mouth on me?"

“Of course I can, sweetheart.” Karkat says, smiling softly up at Dave. “Since you said please.”

Not missing a beat, Karkat runs his tongue up the length of Dave’s cock, the same path he took with his fingertip in that light, teasing touch.

Karkat laps his tongue across Dave’s dick a few times, watching it bob against Dave’s stomach. Then he circles the head with his tongue, slowly, keeping his eyes on Dave to watch every emotion flicker across his face, every arch of his back, every lurch of his hips.

When he’s got Dave _squirming_ beneath him from the small, teasing licks, Karkat finally, abruptly, takes Dave’s cock all the way down until it hits the back of his throat.

He holds it there for a moment, relishing at the feeling of his mouth full, Dave’s scent filling his nose. Karkat groans, then swallows, pushing the head of Dave’s cock past the hole at the back of his throat.

Karkat licks up his cock, light and teasing and Dave whimpers, it's not fair, he's being so light and _teasing_ and this isn't what Dave wanted, it's so fucking torturously _good_ -

Every little lick makes him pant, hands flexing uselessly where they're trapped, and he squirms a little. He wants more, but he already asked, will Karkat get mad if he asks again?

He squirms in indecision and- Karkat takes him into his mouth and Dave jerks, tugging at his wrists with a helpless moan. "K-Karkat-"

 _Oo-oo_ ** _h_** _god-_ Dave arches up as Karkat takes him _all the way in_ , stopped by the bindings, and he sinks back down to the bed. "K- _Karkat-_ " He whines, trembling, tugging at the bonds. He wants Karkat so badly, he _wants_ him.

Karkat keeps up the unrelenting attention. He’s kept Dave waiting for long enough, and honestly Karkat has been _dying_ to have Dave’s cock in his mouth and now that he’s finally getting the chance he can’t hold back, bobbing up and down on Dave’s cock, getting it good and wet.

Dave arches his back, writhing beneath Karkat’s administrations. Karkat takes Dave down and into his throat as many times as he can, feeling the ring of muscle in the back of his mouth starting to _ache_ , but he couldn’t care less. He wants Dave _thrashing_ beneath him, wants his cock thick and _hard_ and pulsing with heat, ready to explode with Dave’s long-overdue release.

Karkat finally releases Dave’s cock with a wet _pop_ , his mouth shiny and wet and swollen. He crawls up the bed, keeping one hand on Dave’s cock, pumping him slow and steady and _firm_. He holds out his other hand to Dave, pressing the pads of his first two fingers against Dave’s bottom lip.

“Suck.” Karkat says, his voice coming out in a thick rasp.

Dave can't help the desperate, shaky noises falling from his mouth as he quivers, Karkat bobbing on his cock, breathy and rough, arching and tugging and shaking his head- it's _torture_ , he wants more, he wants more, it's so fucking good-

he wants- he wants to _touch_ but not being allowed to is better, it's a rule he can follow to be good- so he _whines_ and sobs and begs, "ahh- hhhh- h- Karka- _t_ , p-please- _more,_ please-"

Karkat pulls off and Dave goes boneless, sagging into the beg with a weak moan, but Karkat is good, Karkat is nice, he's good, he doesn't leave Dave with nothing, he keeps his hand on Dave and strokes him firmly, stopping his cock from aching with _need_.

Karkat presses his fingers to Dave's mouth and Dave opens up, immediately licking and sucking over them, his eyes fluttering shut as he fucking _worships_ Karkat's fingers, bobbing his head up as much as he can.

“More, baby?” Karkat says, keeping up his rhythm as he jerks Dave’s cock with one hand and watches with _rapt_ attention as Dave takes Karkat’s fingers into his mouth, his gorgeous eyes fluttering prettily as he licks and sucks on Karkat’s fingers. “I’ll give you more, sweetheart, don’t you worry.”

Karkat pulls his fingers out of Dave’s mouth, and lets go of his cock. “One second, baby, just hang on,” Karkat croons when Dave whines when he loses the touch. Karkat squirms his way out of his boxers with his clean hand, chucking them across the room as he climbs up the bed and straddles Dave’s thighs. Karkat puts his hand back on Dave’s cock, giving him a few firm pumps as he reaches behind him and, with the fingers Dave got wet for him, Karkat works open his own entrance.

“You promised, right?” Karkat breathes, fucking himself on his fingers in time with the pumps of Dave’s cock. “Told me you’d fuck me so good later. You gonna keep your word to me, baby?”

Karkat groans as he rocks his hips back against his fingers, keeping his eyes locked on Dave’s, his gaze half-lidded, dark, and hungry.

“You ready to fuck me, baby?” Karkat moans, “Ready for me to ride you into the sheets until you cum inside me?”

Karkat grabs the base of Dave’s cock and positions it at his entrance, pressing the head of Dave’s dick into the tight muscle, barely pushing him inside. “Sound good to you, baby? Want me to fuck myself on your cock while all you can do is watch?”

Karkat says _more_ and Dave nods with a pleading noise, and then Karkat just _pulls back_ so Dave whines softly, tugging at his wrists, wanting Karkat to come back.

Karkat's undressing though, so Dave tries to be patient, watching him quietly. Everything feels so fuzzy, he doesn't usually get like this in most scenes, most scenes he's able to- to stay _thinking_ , but-

But Karkat's getting him into his soft, fuzzy subspace and it feels _good_. He's relaxing, finding he's worrying less and less.

He watches as Karkat works himself open with a salacious grin, and moans helplessly as he realizes Karkat is going to _ride_ him, oh _god_. Dave's not going to be able to fuck him properly- Karkat's going to _take_ his pleasure from Dave and the idea makes him shudder.

Karkat's kneeling above him and pressing himself just the _tiniest_ bit down onto Dave and Dave trembles, toes flexing, tugging at his binds and feeling himself relax when they feel secure.

"Yes-" He moans, looking up at Karkat with a desperate gaze. " _Use_ me, Karkat, please- I'm just a fucking toy for you-" He breaks off into a trembling whine.

“Oh, baby, _no_ ,” Karkat breathes, pressing himself a little farther down onto Dave’s cock, “You’re _so_ much more than that.”

Then Karkat _drops_ his hips down, taking the rest of Dave’s cock all at once. Karkat’s head rolls backward as Dave bottoms out deep inside of him.

“ _Fuck_ yes, baby,” Karkat sighs, rolling his hips to press Dave even deeper inside of him. “God, you feel so fucking good. Been waiting five fucking years to feel your cock inside me again.”

Karkat moans deep in his throat, head knocked back, eyes closed in bliss as he rocks his hips against Dave, not even riding him yet; just relishing in the _fullness_.

Then Karkat lifts his hips, slowly pulling Dave’s cock nearly all the way out, until just the head is still inside, just past the first ring of tight, warm muscle.

But he’s waited five years, so he doesn’t wait much longer.

Karkat drops down again, hard and fast, slapping against Dave’s hips with a sharp cry. He quickly builds up a rhythm, grinding against Dave’s cock when it’s deep inside, lifting his hips until Dave is almost all the way out, then dropping down fast. Karkat repeats this again and again and again until he feels sweat crawling down the small of his back, beading on his temples underneath his bangs.

“D-Dave, fuck, _fuck_ yes!” Karkat cries out, dropping down again and grinding his hips _hard_ against Dave’s, over and over. “So good, baby, s-so good, ffff- _uuuuck_!”

Dave _jolts_ up as Karakt drops down onto his dick, a desperate moan sliding from his throat. He's stopped by the restrains and he stares up at Karkat desperately, _drinking_ in his expression, slowly slumping back down to the bed.

"Karkat-" He whines, hips trying to jolt up into Karkat but being unable to move, so he shifts his legs instead, rubbing his legs together.

Karkat pulls up slowly, slowly, and it's _torture_ , is he going to be this slow the whole time? Is this his punishment? But then he _slams_ down and Dave _moans_ , his head tossing back. He tugs fruitlessly at the bindings, deep rocking jolts of pleasure tearing through him with each slap of Karkat's hips. "Karkat-" He whines, he feels like he should be whining _Daddy_ , but Karkat said not to and he has to be good.

Karkat moves like a vision, a fucking _dream_ above him, rippling motion and sensuality, fucking himself onto Dave, grinding rough and hard and Dave can't fucking take it, he can't-

"K-Karkat-" He gasps, "I'm close, I- I don't want-" He doesn't want to cum, doesn't want this to be over so quick, he wants to keep making Karkat feel _good_ , wants to keep _being_ good for Karkat.

“Dave Strider, don’t you _dare_ ,” Karkat _growls_ through a long, loud moan, dragging his nails down Dave’s chest. “Don’t you dare fucking cum—w-waited too fucking long—don’t you _dare_ —“

Dave’s cock still buried to the hilt deep inside him, Karkat leans back and grabs Dave’s balls and _squeezes_.

“You’re going to cum when I _tell_ you that you can cum,” Karkat grunts as he digs his hips against Dave’s, pushing his cock in as deep as he can get it from this angle. “I’m getting my five years worth out of you.”

Karkat moves his hand to squeeze his thumb and index finger around the base of Dave’s cock and squeeze, creating a makeshift cockring with his hand as he continues to rut himself onto Dave. With his other hand, he comes around and starts to stroke his own cock, groaning as he pumps his fist along his length, bringing precum beading at his head.

“You’re gonna lay there...and watch me fuck myself on you,” Karkat pants, “All those people who fucked you, and I was helpless to stop it. Now you get to be helpless and watch me fuck myself while you can’t even touch me. And I’m not letting you cum.”

Karkat lifts his hips and drops them again, still pumping hard on his cock.

“You wanna fuck me? You wanna _cum_? You wanna make me cum _yourself_?” Karkat moans with every syllable, his eyes never leaving Dave’s, “Tell me how much you wanna fuck me, tell me what you wanna do to me, baby—show me, _prove_ it to me and I’ll let you fuck me—“

Dave whines as Karkat drags his nails down his chest, leaving hot, stinging lines that would stay there and even as he grabs onto the order _don't cum_ \- there's a deep, deep, part of him that's crooning and begging _please, please, more, please- mark me up, please-_

Karkat _grabs_ him and it's a relief, it's such a relief, he won't be bad, he won't cum without permission, so he sobs out, " _Thank_ you, thank you-" He whimpers, yanking at the bindings, moaning helplessly.

 _Five years worth_ \- Karkat is going to _kill_ him and Dave will die happy, he'll die the luckiest, happiest goddamn man in the world, fucked to death by his incredible boyfriend. He can't do _anything_ but watch, but let it happen to him, but let Karkat use him how he wants, use him to take revenge, use him to make himself feel good, just-

_ Just use me, Karkat- _

Dave trembles, a gasp leaving him as Karkat orders him. "F-Fuck-" He whines, _Rule three, talk to Karkat,_ "Karkat- I wanna-" He yanks at his wrists, arching up, "I wanna make you feel good, wanna kiss you and touch you, _please_ lemme touch-" He gasps, "I wanna-" He tries to be more specific, "Wanna bite your neck and mark you _u-hhhup-_ " He whines and collapses back to the bed, tugging helplessly, trying to reach out. "Wanna- wanna make you feel _go-oodd-_ "

He shakes his head, toes curling, hips trying to thrust up but unable to.

Karkat continues to jerk himself in hard, slow strokes as he listens to Dave tell him what he wants to do to him. He watches as Dave pulls against his restraints as though trying to break free on his own, trying to get closer to Karkat. He can feel Dave’s feeble attempts at trying to match his thrusts, but with his feet and hands bound all he can do is lift his hips a little, and especially with Karkat on top pressing his weight into his hips he just doesn’t have the control he needs to truly _fuck_ him.

But Karkat wants Dave _even more_ desperate. He wants Dave to be _begging_ to fuck him so much that the moment Karkat releases him from the belts he _lunges_ at Karkat and fucks him fast and hard and _rough_.

Maybe Karkat couldn’t get Dave angry about the stuff from his past the way he tried to before. Maybe this was the only way he could.

Karkat gives the base of Dave’s cock another squeeze and continues his deep, slow grind against Dave, rolling his hips around in a circular motion so he can feel Dave along every inch of his insides.

“That sounds real good, baby,” Karkat says, “But...not good enough.”

He wants Dave _frustrated_. He wants to see him _thrashing_ against his restraints like a wild animal, wants to hear him crying out Karkat’s name. Have every word out of his mouth that _isn’t_ Karkat’s name be a desperate plea to cum, to _fuck_ Karkat like he _wants_ to—

“Come on, baby, you can do better than that,” Karkat says, breathless as he lifts his hips and drops yet again. “Tell me how every time you fucked someone else you wished it was _me_ , tell me how every time you touched yourself you thought of _me_ —did your fantasies look like this? It must be killing you, having the real deal _right here_ on your cock and you can’t do a thing about it. Is it like when you’d lie awake at night and fuck your hand?”

Karkat picks up his pace again, lifting and dropping his hips down and filling himself up with Dave again and again, still squeezing Dave’s cock, refusing him release.

“Or maybe I should just stop fucking you altogether, to really give you the same effect,” Karkat continues between pants and moans, “maybe I’ll just let you lie there and watch while I fuck _myself_ on my fingers and cum. Or I’ll do you one better—I’ll just leave you in here and go finish myself in the shower, being nice and loud so you can hear the whole time but can’t watch. With no way to touch me or yourself. That short walk down the hall is gonna feel like the 2,139 miles from here to California.”

Karkat pulls Dave completely out, and his own body is _screaming_ with agony at how empty he feels. This is torturous for Karkat too, but he’s sure whatever he’s feeling is multiplied by ten for Dave.

“That’s not a bad idea, actually.” Karkat murmurs, “Bet you jerked yourself off every time you showered too, huh? Did you daydream about fucking me under the shower spray, pinning me up against the shower wall and rutting into me?”

Karkat stops his onslaught for a moment so he can shove three of his fingers into his mouth, sucking and licking on them while he looks down at Dave, stroking his own cock. Then he reaches behind him and pushes his fingers back inside himself. It’s _nothing_ like Dave’s cock, it’s nowhere _close_ , but Karkat overplays it, lets his eyes flutter closed and an exaggerated moan fall from his lips.

“I bet we both touched ourselves while thinking of the other so much, there must have been times we were doing it at the exact same time. You pumping your cock, my name on your lips—and me, right here in this bed, fucking myself on my fingers and wishing it was your cock. Like our bodies were crying out for each other across the distance.”

Karkat bites his lip as he curls his fingers up inside himself, searching desperately for his sweet spot.

When the pads of his fingers brush across it, Karkat’s hips buck, he lets out another loud moan, but lets it out even louder just to get Dave’s heart hammering.

“I’m so close-e, b-baby,” Karkat croons, rolling his hips back against his fingers in time with his hand as it stokes over his cock. “G-gonna cum be-fore you even g-get to t-tou-ouch me-e, baby, gonna cum-mm without your cock in-nside me—how’s that make you feel, you can’t f-fuck me the way you _want_ and now your cock isn’t e-even what’s gonna make me cum—just my own hand, like it was f-for _five years_ —“

Karkat is fucking teasing him so hard- Dave _whines_ as Karkat says _not enough enough_ , he wants to be good enough, he wants to _make Karkat feel good_ , he wants to fuck him how he deserves and make him feel taken care of and make him feel every lost night and missed day that they could have had, they _should_ have had.

He feels dizzy from how hard he's panting, trying to rock up into Karkat as Karkat tells him to say all these things, tells him to remember how it _felt_ to miss Karkat and _god_ did Dave miss him-

He can't forget all the times he locked Karkat's name behind his teeth when getting fucked, can't forget curling around a pillow and rutting into his bed, aching for him, can't forget closing his eyes and putting on a fucking _rubber glove_ so that he could disconnect himself from the sensation of touching his dick and pretend it's Karkat doing sexy nurse play or something equally stupid.

Dave gasps, "Karkat, please-" and then he _pulls out_ and something inside Dave _shifts_ \- he yanks at the bindings, he wants them _off_ , he _needs_ Karkat, he needs him, needs to make him feel good, needs to prove that he deserves him, needs to prove that he can _make Karkat feel good_ \- its a hunger that's crystalizing in his belly, surging and tearing through him as he watches Karkat moan and writhe on his own fucking fingers _without Dave_.

"Don't you fucking cum, baby-" Dave gasps, yanking at the _fucking_ belts around his wrists, god he's so fucking stupid why did he let Karkat tie him up, he can't fuck Karkat like this, _fuck-_

"Don't you do it," he arches up, unaware of the wild, hungry expression that's sliding onto his face as he strains, trying to get as close as he can to Karkat, "I'll fuck you so good baby, lemme go, please, lemme go I'll make you feel so fucking good, better than your fingers ever could, you know you fucking missed me so much-"

He jerks up again, feeling the strain on his shoulders and moaning helplessly, furiously, unable to do anything, "I missed you so goddamn much, baby, this is _torture_ , you're gonna kill me, you're right here and I can't fucking touch you, can't fuck you, lemme go baby, I'll make you feel so good, I'll shove you into the sheets and make you _scream_ , I'll fuck you until you can't fucking move, I'll put you into another goddamn plane of existence, Karkat _please_ -"

He heaves in a desperate breath, braces his feet on the bed and strains against the bindings on his wrists, using them as points of tension so that he can _roll_ his hips up against Karkat, _look at me, baby, look at me, I'll take care of you-_

"Let me go, Karkat, lemme go- I know you want it, want me to fuck you for real baby, want me to give it to you, want me to make you see fucking stars, gonna fuck you so _hard_ -" He lets out a desperately loud moan, going tense and giving another _roll_ , head dropping back, everything _burning_ with desperation.

Karkat stares down at Dave breathlessly, watching in awe as Dave’s entire aura completely shifts right before his eyes. When Karkat pulled Dave’s cock out of him he expected Dave to whine, to writhe on the sheets and beg for Karkat to come back— _nooo, Karkat, please_ —but instead Dave’s eyes went wide and _dark_. It was like when Dave slipped into his dominant persona before, only this is much, _much_ different.

If there’s something _beyond_ domination, Karkat doesn’t know the word for it, but that’s what’s in Dave’s eyes now. And it makes light bubbles of excited anticipation fill Karkat’s belly and chest.

Now Dave is the one telling _him_ not to cum, he’s calling him _baby_ again—promising Karkat he’ll make him feel good and _oh_ , Karkat never doubted Dave could for a second. But to get Dave to _this_ point—Karkat still feels that beast inside him, and it’s chest is rumbling with a low, pleased growl. It’s lowering itself down to the ground, eyes blown wide, tail flickering, ready to _pounce_. Waiting.

Dave is _yanking_ on his restraints in frustration, trying everything he can to pull his wrists free, to use some leverage to try and thrust up his hips, but it’s no use. And the longer he tries in vain, the darker his eyes get, the more he begs—no, _demands_ —Karkat to _let him go_.

Karkat doesn’t say a word. He pulls his fingers out of himself, and stops pumping his cock, giving himself a tight squeeze on the base, keeping his orgasm at bay. The head leaks out a thick bead of precum that drops onto Dave’s stomach.

Then Karkat twists his torso and leans back to reach the latch on the belt around Dave’s ankles. He works it open and pulls the belt away, tossing it off the edge of the bed. He sees Dave is already pulling his legs apart so Karkat swings back around and _slams_ his hands down onto Dave’s hips before he can try anything.

“You waited five years, baby,” Karkat mutters, “I think you can wait a little more.”

May as well tip Dave even _further_ off the edge while he’s still got him at his mercy, Karkat thinks maliciously.

When Karkat is sure Dave will stay still, he removes his hands, slowly. Then he reaches up and pulls at the belt on Dave’s left wrist. He throws the belt aside and then _immediately_ pins Dave’s wrist down. Then, one-handed, he releases the other belt, and repeats the same movement. Both wrists pinned deep into the pillows.

Dave looks fucking _furious_.

Karkat _grins_. He stares down at Dave, face flushed, chest heaving, hair stuck to his forehead in sweat. T

hen, he lets go.

Dave goes still as Karkat twists away, hunger burning through him. He feels like a goddamn wolf ready to lunge, feeling Karkat's hands on his ankles, undoing the belt. He shifts his feet, flexing them as soon as they're free, but Karkat's keeping him pinned, telling him _wait_.

Dave waits.

He watches, his heart pounding roughly, his muscles tensing, as Karkat undoes one hand and _pins_ it down. He's stopping Dave from touching him, even _now_ , and Dave _fucking_ ** _wants him_**.

Karkat gives him a smug grin and Dave is going to fuck that right off of his face.

Karkat undoes his other wrist and Dave is _coil_ of tension under him. _Come on, come on-_ his heart croons, _come on, Karkat, baby, lemme go, lemme go, I'll fuck you so fucking good-_

Karkat lets go.

Dave surges up, grabbing Karkat, and _rolls_ them. He drops all his weight on Karkat, pinning him to the bed, sinking both of his hands into Karkat's hair, and _yanks_ , his mouth finding Karkat's neck and latching on, right over his pulsepoint as Dave gives a roll of his hips, grinding against Karkat, rocking him into the bed.

"I'm going to fuck you so fucking good, baby." Dave growls, feeling like a wild fucking animal, like a fever dream is gripping him and sinking into his bones. He's never felt so _hungry_ before, never _wanted_ like this, the feeling flint-sharp and crystallized so perfectly clear and beautiful. He feels like he could reach into Karkat's chest and consume him whole, until there's not _two_ but _one_ and it's just daveandkarkatanddaveand-

He hikes up Karkat's legs and _shoves_ , the perfect, wet slide of his cock into Karkat's body making him groan.

"Feels so fucking good, baby-" He breathes, pressing another kiss to Karkat's neck followed by a liberal application of _teeth_. "Feels so fucking good, dreamed about you _every goddamn night_ baby, dreamed about _this_ -"

He braces his hands on the bed and starts fucking, starts driving his cock into Karkat over and over, panting like a fucking beast as he ruts and rocks and _fucks_ , "couldn't ever forget you, you're _mine_ -"

The instant Karkat lets go of Dave’s wrists, Dave comes up and grabs him around the middle and rolls them over and Karkat’s heart fucking _sings_ and the beast inside him roars victoriously.

Dave’s hands go straight into his hair and _pull_ and Karkat groans through his teeth, his head knocking back. Karkat’s whole body lurches as Dave bites down on his neck and rolls his hips. Their cocks _grind_ against one another deliciously and it makes the edges of Karkat’s vision get blurry.

Then Dave is grabbing Karkat’s legs and bringing them up and shoving himself inside and Karkat makes a noise between a moan, a grunt, and a _growl_. Dave kisses his neck and then bites, and Karkat’s body _twitches_.

Karkat wraps his legs around Dave’s waist and locks his ankles, working quick and desperately to get himself secured before Dave starts fucking him the way he promised. Karkat’s gasping with need and excitement, his entire body convulsing with tremors every time he feels Dave’s cock twitch inside him, feels Dave’s warm breath fan across his face. He feels their heartbeats thrumming together in tandem, a frantic, pulsing beat in his ears, in his chest, in his cock.

Then Dave starts to thrust, _slamming_ himself into Karkat again and again, an endless tirade of sweet words poured like honey into Karkat’s ears as Karkat gets fucked relentless and rough into the sheets.

“Nnn— _ye—ees_ —ah!— _D-Dave_ —mmmnn, right there, yes, baby, _fuck_ —“ Karkat was already exhausted from fucking himself on Dave’s cock, his body aching, all he can do now is lie here and _take it_ , let Dave fuck him as fast and hard as he wants.

Words spill from Karkat’s mouth endlessly as his trembling body is ground into the mattress. His hands rest on either side of his head, curling and uncurling as his head rolls around, pressing back into the pillows with a long, loud moan.

“Make me cum, baby, I wanna _cum_ —I wan—wanna _cummm_ t-together—cum for me, cum for me, Dave, _please_!—“

Karkat _moans_ and begs so prettily, begs for Dave to cum, for them to cum together, and it's gasoline on the flame, it's water on the oil fire in Dave's chest because it fucking _explodes_ , poring over- Dave feels fucking _feral_ as he fucks into Karkat, slapping their hips together, panting.

"You want to cum, baby?" He moans, "You wa-nnt to fucking cum-?"

He growls and sinks his teeth into Karkat's shoulder again, switching to a deep, _grinding_ rock, his feet braced on the bed, his entire weight behind the motion, shoving himself as deep as he fucking can into Karkat, he wants to fuck him open and make Karkat's body _remember_ the feeling of Dave's cock, wants to pump him full of Dave's cum and make him _keep_ it, plugged up and filled to the brim with _Dave_ , with Dave's marks, with his dick, with his seed-

" ** _Not yet_**." He snarls, and his hand shoots down to grab Karkat's dick, his balls, circling around them and stopping him from cumming. "You don't get to cum yet, Karkat, not yet, baby-" Dave pants, "until I get my five years worth-"

He's fucking possessed. He's crawling out of his own goddamn skin and only the feeling of Karkat around him, under him, the sound of his voice, are keeping him anchored.

Dave pulls away from Karkat's neck to give him a burning, hungry grin. "I've got _so much to make up for, baby-_ " He croons. "All those nights thinking about you, imagining what this'd be like, remembering how sweetly you'd moan for me-"

He leans in and _devours_ Karkat's mouth, humping into him as he bites and licks and _claims_ the warm, wet space of Karkat's body, pouring his hunger and _want_ into him, wanting to blur the space between their bodies until there's _nothing left separating them_.

** Not yet. **

_ Not yet. _

Karkat’s back curls up towards the ceiling, the back of his head driving into the pillows on a bitten-back cry when Dave _grabs_ him, preventing his release. Karkat fucking _sobs_ , thrashing against the sheets.

“F-Fucking—son of a _bitch_ —“ Karkat cries, lurching up to grab fistfuls of Dave’s hair and _tugging_. Using his own fucking tricks against him, fuck him, it wasn’t fucking _fair_ —

Dave covers Karkat’s mouth with his as he continues to rut against him, licking and biting at his lips, and Karkat kisses him back just as fervently, mouth open wide, teeth gnashing, like they were two dogs snarling and nipping at each other’s faces rather than kissing.

Karkat drags his hands out of Dave’s hair and down his shoulders, gripping tightly and pulling his nails down Dave’s skin, relishing in how it makes Dave hiss through his teeth. He wraps his arms underneath Dave’s and pulls him close, wants to press their bodies together as close as they can go—then pushing it further, until they’re _one_ forever, never apart again.

He wants Dave to forget everything about California. The colour of Damara’s hair, the sound of her voice—the pain. Karkat wants to push it all out of Dave’s mind for good, filling all the tattered, broken places with himself, until all Dave knows is _Karkat_ —

“Then _do it already_ ,” Karkat groans, and—what is he saying? Dave is already fucking him _so_ good, as hard and fast and rough as Karkat wanted—how can he possibly be asking for _more_ , this is already so much more than he ever dreamed he’d have again—

But he doesn’t care. He’s—he’s _angry_. They were kept apart for so long, they could have been together like this _every day_ , it wasn’t fair, how dare Dave leave, how dare he _stay there_ , in that awful place—he should have run away, come back to Karkat, should have sent him a letter, called him, SOMETHING, Karkat would have done _anything_ , he could have helped him, then they would have been together—

“Hurry up and _fuck_ me, you _bastard_ —you should have _stayed with me_ —fuck, how _dare_ you—make me fucking _wait_ when you _left_ —you were gone and you _stayed gone_ —should have run away, should have _fucking called me_ or sent me a fucking l-letter— _anything_ would have been better than _staying_ —mother _fucker_ —“ Karkat is panting and moaning and _growling_ through his teeth as he clings to Dave in a vice grip, like he’s a snake trying to suffocate it’s supper, “Stupid _fool_ , goddamn son of a _bitch_ , I would have helped you, would have saved you—you didn’t have to be a stupid fucking _knight_ , you dumbass shitlord, _I could have been_ ** _your_** _knight_!”

Karkat _grabs his hair_ and pulls and kisses back just as furiously, spitting words at him, dragging his nails down Dave's back, the sting making him hiss, it's _fire_ , it's fucking burning him, it's too much, too hot, but Dave can't stop, can't do anything but fuck this fever out, pouring every ounce of his energy into Karkat, into his lover, into _making him take it_. It's a fucking fever pitch of motion and fucking and Karkat clawing and clinging to him.

It's burning, it's _burning_ , it's shifting from hunger to _fury_ and _pain_ and _howfuckingdareyou_ as Karkat snaps and snarls and spits word after word after word at him that land like fucking daggers in his back, fucking needles in his heart, and it _hurts_ , it makes him want to scream and _claw_ and bite and snap, he wants to fucking _hurt_ Karkat, wants to make him stop saying these things, wants to make him _stop fucking hurting Dave_ -

"Shut up, shut up-" Dave pants and _yanks_ , pulling on Karkat's hair, forcing his head back as he attacks Karkat's throat, biting and dragging his teeth over it like he wants to fucking _strip the flesh_ from Karkat's body, letting go to drag his hands down Karkat's back in return, yanking them over onto their sides so that Dave can _cling_ and grind his hips up into Karkat, "shut the _fuck_ up-" his heart fucking _hurts_ , it's screaming, it's crying, he doesn't want to think, he just wants to _feel_ , just wants to fuck and fuck and fuck until Karkat can't fuck anymore, until he's all fucked out and _shuts up-_

Dave pulls back and _twists_ , breaking Karkat's hold on him so that he can _slam_ Karkat face down to the bed and shove right back in, _raking_ his nails over Karkat's back, slamming his palms to Karkat's shoulderblades and _pinning him down_ as the words spill over in a fucking _torrent,_

"Don't you _fucking_ say anything, you- fucking- you don't know _anything_ , so shut the fuck up," Dave pants, "You think you fucking _know_ what it was like, living there? You think you _know_ , you can just-" there's something shattering in his chest, fragile and terrible and sharp, "-lie there and tell me _what I should have done_ , tell me what you would have done- _fuck_ you, fuck you-"

He slams forwards, starting a hard, deep humping, pressing his front up along Karkat's back, pinning him under his weight, taking a moment to swipe the sweat from his face, clearing his vision,

"fuck you for saying what I _should have done_ like it would have been that fucking easy-" He snarls and grabs Karkat's hair, yanking his head up, "like I didn't have fucking everyone around me- pouring _fucking poison_ into my goddamn head, telling me how fucking worthless I am, how I _ruin_ everything I touch, how I'm only good for **_this_** -" He shoves Karkat's face into the best as he _slams_ his hips in once, the force of the slap making his hips, his skin sting, before he resumes his furious rutting into Karkat, "don't you dare lie there and preach to me about what I should have done, when everything around me was telling- telling me how it's a _good fucking thing that I left_ and how I should just fucking _stay gone_ because you surely _hate me_ and I'll just break you, just fucking ruin and taint you and shatter you if I fucking _touch_ you again-"

He can't fucking breathe, he can't do anything but fuck and _fuck_ and **_fuck_** , the only fucking thing he's good at, breathing ragged and there's a noise, there's a noise of distress and it's from _him_ , it's tearing from his throat and he sinks into Karkat and just _grinds_ , gasping for breath, his chest is so fucking tight, he can't fucking breath, wiping the sweat out of his eyes, every inch of him is fucking _aching_ ,

"so don't-" he gasps, "don't you- _fucking_ lie there- and tell me-" He presses into Karkat, grinding forcefully but slower, his legs aching, his hips aching, his _chest_ in agony as he tries to breathe, "what I _should have done_ you- you-"

He breaks into a soul- wracking sob, curling against Karkat's back, pressing his face between Karkat's shoulderblades, and oh. It's not sweat.

He's just been crying.

Dave tells him to _shut up_ , and Karkat’s stomach twists and jolts, and then Dave _yanks_ on Karkat’s hair and Karkat is still so taken aback by Dave’s words that he gives a sharp cry of surprise and _pain_ , and Dave is jerking his head back again to bite at Karkat’s throat and it feels like he’s being _attacked_ by an animal, it _stings_ , his body jumps at the pain, he cries out weakly, unable to make more than small, panicked sounds—

Dave twists them around and now Karkat’s face is being pressed into the sheets, Dave _shoves_ back in and it _hurts_ but there’s still pleasure tingling on the edges of it and Karkat’s so confused by the sensation, this—this—

This _good-bad feeling_.

Dave’s words wash over him like a cold tide, Karkat feels like he’s laying on wet sand and letting the tide wash over him and pull him under. Dave’s voice is thick with _venom_ as he continues to fuck into Karkat, as ice cold realization and panic and pain and _fear_ drain the heat from Karkat’s body. He’s trembling under Dave now, laying still as Dave uses him.

_ I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry— _

**This is what we wanted,** the beast snarls, **We wanted his anger. It was the only way he could get past it. Let him use you to cope.**

Karkat didn’t know. Is _this_ what Dave felt? This fear, this pain, this gut-churning confusion—the pain mixes with pleasure, he asked Dave to fuck him, he wanted him angry—it felt good, but it _hurt_ —this was _wrong_ , but he couldn’t stop the tiny moans that fell from his lips, no matter how he tried to hold them back.

Karkat wanted Dave angry.

_ No. Not like this! _

** Yes. It’s good. Let him use you. This is what it was like for him, all those years. You can finally know first-hand. And this is only the tiniest fraction of it, this is NOTHING compared to his pain, you will NEVER understand. **

“I-I’m s-sorry,” Karkat whimpers, tears spilling over, “I’m so sorry, Dave, I’m _sorry_ , _I’m sorry I’m sorry_ —“

Dave isn't moving anymore, fingers twisting into the sheets on either side of Karkat, sobbing roughly into his back. "I can't- I can't, I can't-" He gasps, it's all draining away, the hunger, the _anger_ , the need, until he's just hollow and empty and _sobbing_ against Karkat's back, dick still inside of him.

"Karkat, _I can't_ , I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I can't do this, I _can't_ -" He doesn't know, he doesn't know the _rules_ is this still a scene did he fuck it up did he _ruin_ ** _them_** , Karkat's crying, _Karkat's crying_ , Dave ruined everything, he's fucked it up, he's a bad sub, what was he thinking, of course Karkat wouldn't want him to take over, of course he was testing him and now he's fucked it up, he's hurt Karkat and ruined everything and Karkat's _crying_ and Dave needs to go, they were right, they were _right_ he breaks everything he touches, he's just taint and rot and he's not good for anything else but fucking but he can't even do _that_ right, he's not made for love he's made to _be fucked_ -

Dave pulls himself away, sobbing, everything tearing and hurting and _hurting_ and he should have stayed away, should have just fucking left this morning and kept his silence, he should have let Karkat run away and not chased after him he should have just _left Karkat alone_ it would have been better than this, better than pulling him in and getting attached again and _hurting him_ and showing just how fucking broken and worthless he is-

Dave flees. Stumbling steps take him to the bathroom and he sits against the inside of the door, knees to his chest, sobbing.

 _He wants Damara._ He wants to know his place in the world again. He wants things to make sense, he wants to have neat rules to keep him in line, he doesn't want to have to think or try and take charge or pretend to be okay, he wants to be _hurt_ until it's all okay again, until he's been punished and is allowed to be good.


	13. Chapter 13

Dave stops thrusting, he’s just pressed against Karkat’s back for a moment and Karkat can feel him shaking, hear him _sobbing_ —

Then Dave is saying he _can’t_ again and again as he pulls away, and he’s still sobbing and Karkat’s sobbing too—he hurt him, he _hurt_ Dave, he fucked everything up—

Karkat feels the bed shift and rise as Dave’s weight leaves and Karkat starts sobbing _harder_ —where was he going, why is he pulling away—

_ Hold me. I just want you to hold me. _

Karkat hears a door _slam_ and it makes him jolt upright. He can’t leave, he can’t he can’t he can’t he CAN’T—

“N-no, no,” Karkat’s whole body is still doubling over as it’s wracked with heavy sobs, but somehow he manages to clamber out of bed, falling onto the floor, “No, no-no- _no_ —“

He gets to his feet and takes a shaky step and pain shoots up his back and his legs give out underneath him and he falls again, landing on his hands and knees and he chokes out a pained sob of frustration—

 _MOVE,_ he screams at his body, _he’s not leaving you again, you have to_ ** _move_** _—_

Karkat has to half-crawl, half stumble to the door, grabbing onto the doorknob and using it as leverage to pull himself to his feet and stumbling shakily out into the hallway, staring over at the bathroom door.

_ 2,139 miles away. _

“D-D- _aaave_ —“ Karkat’s voice breaks as he weakly calls out for Dave—his best friend, his partner, his boyfriend, his lover, his fiancé, his _everything_ —Karkat crosses the distance to the door, but he doesn’t have the courage to open it.

Dave must be _furious_ with him. He probably never wants to see him again. Karkat was insensitive to his pain, he hurt him so badly. Karkat leans against the wall and slides down as another broken sob bursts out of him. He leans his head against the door.

“D-Dave, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry I’m n-not good enough—I’ll n-never be able to u-understand what you went through, I know that, I _know_ —“ Karkat’s eyes screw shut and more tears spill over.

“I—I know I fucked up, I’m _sorry_ , I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s right, I don’t know what to do, I don’t know how to make you better,” Karkat hiccups, “I d-don’t know how to help, I don’t know the rules, I don’t know anything—but _I love you_ , that’s all I know how to do, I’m _sorry_ , please, Dave, please, _please_!”

Karkat turns his face into the door as he shakes with sobs, curling in on himself.

“I’m sorry i-if that’s n-not good enough, but I want to make it good enough—I want to be better, I want to help you—“ Karkat’s hyperventilating now, cold panic seeping into his bones, stabbing at him like he’s plunged into ice water. “I _need_ you, I’m sorry, _I need you_ , I love you, Dave, I’m _SORRY_ —“

Dave buries his face in his knees, heaving sobs, flinching at the sound of Karkat's voice. He hurt Karkat, he fucked everything up, he broke everything apart and now his rot is spreading, his touch is breaking everything as _always_ , he should have stayed gone-

But Karkat's

sobbing.

He's begging and and apologizing and _whywhywhy_ why is he doing that, he's saying he still loves Dave, he loves him, he's _sorry_ ,

_ that's all I know how to do- _

Dave cries harder, twisting to press against the door. He wants Karkat, wants to be holding him but he's fucking _poison_ , he'll just hurt him again, he'll just shatter Karkat and make him unrecognizable.

"Karkat-" He sobs, "I can't do this, I can't, I'm sorry, I love you, I _love_ you- I can't, I'm just fucking poison, I shouldn't have- I shouldn't have shoved my fucking stupid nose back into your life, I break and ruin _everything_ -" he gasps, dizzy and lightheaded from the force of his sobbing.

He wants to fucking _die_. He wants to die, he doesn't want this pain, he'd rather be dead, he doesn't want to keep breaking and ruining Karkat, Karkat deserves to much fucking better, Karkat _deserves better_ because Dave is broken and tiny and fucked up and he doesn't deserve anything.

"I- I sh-should- hav-ve just- stayed- stayed in Cali-li-fornia-" he can't fucking breathe properly, "it's- wh-what I de-serve- I just- just _break_ every-thing I touch-"

He presses his cheek to wood, " _I love you, I love you-_ " he sobs, "I can't, I _love you-_ "

Karkat’s so tired.

He’s so _fucking_ tired.

Everything aches, everything _hurts_ , there’s so much pain that he’s numb, like he can feel so much of it at once that he can’t feel any of it at all.

His chest shudders with another breathless, shaky sob. Karkat closes his eyes and tears silently roll down his face as Dave’s broken voice comes through the door. He’s close, he must be right by the door, Karkat wants to just rip it open—but he’s a coward—he’s a fucking coward and he’s _tired_.

He just wants to see Dave.

He just wants to hold him.

He wants to be able to tell Dave he loves him and have him believe it.

He wants Dave to believe he _deserves_ it.

“Dave...” Karkat whispers, his voice raw and listless, drained.

If Dave had known Karkat would be in that coffee shop, Karkat is convinced that Dave would have picked a different café that morning. He would have carefully side-stepped, keeping himself out of Karkat’s life. Keep his distance, terrified of breaking him.

But Karkat wants him to charge in like Dave’s the bull, and Karkat’s the china shop. Break him apart as many times as it takes.

They can keep putting the pieces back together. Like _kintsugi_ , repairing the cracks with gold. Making it more beautiful with every break, because every time they learn each other a little more. Figure out how to traverse each other with care, yet no hesitation. No fear.

Karkat presses his hand against the door. “Dave, _please_...”

Dave cries, but it's quieter, softer, his sobs starting to calm down as he's able to catch his breath, some of the dizzy sensations starting to bleed away as he's able to breathe.

"Karkat." He shudders out a soft sob, Karkat's name breaking apart in his mouth. "I'm sorry. I'm _sorry_. I can't- I shouldn't have come back." He whispers, miserable.

Someone could have stabbed Karkat in the chest with an ice-cold lance and it would hurt less.

“You _had_ to,” Karkat whispers, “You couldn’t have stayed there, Dave, in that _horrible_ place. It would have—you deserve _so much more_ than that kind of life...”

Dave shakes his head against the door, even though he knows Karkat can't see it. "It's exactly what I deserve." He says, and his tone is _miserable_. "I break _everything_ , Karkat." He rubs at his face. "I'll break you too."

“Then _break me_ ,” Karkat voice breaks around the words, “it’s okay, it’ll be okay—th-this isn’t going to be _easy_ , Dave, I know that, I _know_ , but I don’t _care_. You’re worth it. You always have been. We can figure it out together, I _promise_.”

Dave sobs and smacks the door helplessly. "I'm _not_ -" he gasps, "I'm not, I'm not Karkat, I'm _not_ \- I'm not fucking worth it, I'm broken and disgusting and fucked up and I'll just _hurt you_ and I'd rather _die_ , I'd rather die than hurt you-" He gasps, voice cracking and breaking apart.

“And I’d rather _fucking die_ than be apart again—!” Karkat’s voice raises in hysteria, and he tries to choke it back but he can’t, he _can’t_ —he can’t live without Dave he can’t do it, he doesn’t _want_ to, not _again_ — “I know you’re hurt and you’re in pain but you’re not _broken_ , you’ve just—nobody’s treated you _right_ for _so long_ , Dave, and I’m _so sorry_ , baby—I’m so sorry, I just want to help, in any way I can. I know I’ll never be able to understand your pain but I just want—want to be there for you, please, D, _please_...you’re my best fucking friend.”

Dave can't take it anymore, can't take hearing Karkat so upset and in pain and he reaches up and yanks the door open and _throws_ himself at Karkat with a wrecked _sob_ , wrapping himself around Karkat.

" _I'msorryI'msorryI'msorry_ , I love you," He wails, "I love you, _Karkat_ , I love you-" he buries his face in Karkat's neck, a new wave of tears pouring down his cheeks, and he feels so fucking _goddamn_ selfish as he sobs, "don't leave me, _please_ don't leave me-"

The door opens and Karkat isn’t expecting it, he falls forwards but Dave is already there, _Dave is here_ , Dave, Dave _Dave_ —

And he’s throwing his arms around Karkat the same moment Karkat does and they cling to each other, shivering on the floor and crying like scared children in a thunderstorm.

Dave is saying _I’m sorry, I love you_ as Karkat says, “Dave, Dave, Dave,” over and over again, squeezing his arms tightly around Dave—he’s never letting go again, never never never, he’s not leaving again, never—

“Don’t leave _me_ ,” Karkat voice cracks and breaks apart as he sobs again, and he buries his fingers into Dave’s hair as Dave buries his face into his neck and cries.

Karkat presses hard, frantic kisses into his hair. “I love you, I love _so much_ , I’m so sorry—it’s okay, D, it’s okay, we’ll be okay, I’ll make you happy, I promise, I _promise_ —“

"Never, never never never-" Dave promises, sobbing, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'll never leave, not while you want me, I _promise_ -" His heart is shattering, aching apart, Karkat still wants him, he's gathering all the fucking broken, useless pieces of Dave's heart with his bare fucking hands and Dave's stupid fucking heart is cutting his fingers and making him bleed but Karkat's _doing it anyways_ -

“I’m _always_ going to want you, you fucking _fool_ ,” Karkat grabs the sides of Dave’s face and pulls him away from his shoulder so he can see his face. Then he attacks Dave’s face with kisses, everywhere he can reach, “Stupid, stupid, so _stupid_ —“ _Kiss, kiss, kiss_ “Stupid fucking dummy,” _Kiss every inch of him_ “Big dumb _dummy_ —“ 

_ Until you’ve kissed all the poison out. _

Karkat starts pressing kisses to Dave's face, over and over and over again, and at first Dave is crying, and each kiss is kisses away his tears, but then Karkat keeps going, pressing kiss after kiss after kiss and Dave is trembling for a different reason, shaking because Karkat is dumping so much love into him, pouring it into the black quagmire of his soul, Dave just drinking it down and down and it sinks into him with no sign of ever being full.

But he sniffs and clings and gives a weak little laugh as Karkat kisses him over and over until he finally feels steady enough to catch Karkat's face and kiss him properly, just a gentle press of mouths.

Karkat’s already very half-hearted frustration completely bleeds away when he hears Dave _laugh_ —it’s small and weak but it’s _there_ —and then Dave presses his lips gently to Karkat’s, just one small gentle kiss, a complete juxtaposition to the frantic onslaught of kisses that Karkat had been doing.

And Karkat makes a small noise against their lips, deflating, going slack against Dave. They just sit there for a while, Karkat isn’t quite sure how long, just trading tiny, gentle kisses back and forth, still clutched to each other.

Eventually Karkat pulls away, and he’s breathless, face flushed and chest heaving as though they’ve been making out sloppily instead of just sharing small, soft kisses. He brushes his nose against Dave’s, wrapping his arms around Dave’s neck.

“We should get the fuck out of the hallway,” Karkat mumbles, nuzzling against Dave’s face, bunting against his head as though he were a cat, “But...I don’t think I can walk. You took my legs out of commission.”

"'M sorry." Dave whispers, but it's not the panicked, heartbroken apologies of earlier. Just soft and gentle. "I- I fucked that all up back there. I'm sorry, baby." He nuzzles back against Karkat, pressing a kiss to his wet cheek. He gives a wet little laugh, sad and self-deprecating. "Keep making all these fucking promises like _I'll talk to you_ and _I'll never leave_ and then I just fucking panic and-"

He shakes his head a bit, his sentence dropping off. He takes Karkat's hand and clumsily gets to his feet, helping Karkat up as well.

Karkat wobbles unsteadily and grips Dave’s shoulders tightly as Dave helps him to his feet.

“Hey now, shut up, no apologies,” Karkat grumbles, lightly smacking Dave on his tear-stained cheek with a gentle _pap_ , “I pushed you too far, that one’s on me. I shouldn’t have said that shit about—look, things got pretty _intense_ in that last, like, minute, but...uhh, everything else before that? Was fucking hot as shit, so don’t—don’t even worry about it.”

Karkat is totally blushing now, he knows it. He looks away, a little sheepish, still clinging to Dave’s shoulders for dear life because now that he’s on his feet he knows he will _absolutely_ eat shit if he tries to take a single step right now.

Dave sniffles a little, but nods at Karkat's words, wiping his face, letting Karkat lean on him as they slowly go back to the room. "So." He says weakly, trying for a joke, "still a powerbottom, huh?"

He laughs wetly, slowly lowering the both of them back down to the bed, but not letting go of Karkat, pressing their sides together, leaning in to press the side of his head against Karkat's.

"So." He says and swallows. "Good idea, poor um. Outcome. I think."

Karkat nods with a small, soft sigh, bumping his head against Dave’s. “Yeah. I mean...should’ve been pretty fuckin’ self-explanatory, right?” Karkat throws up his arms and puts on a mocking tone, “ _Hey, Karkat, don’t lord things over your fiancé he had no control over!_ ”

Karkat drops his arms, letting out a puff of air from his nose that tousles his sweat-soaked bangs. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I was such a shit. Shouldn’t have gotten mad at you like that.”

He pats Dave on the knee, and gives it a gentle squeeze. “Angry sex seems hot in theory, another thing al-to-fucking-gether in practice.”

Dave shakes his head. "It's okay." He says quietly. "You're right. I could have just... reached out. But I didn't. It would have been the easiest fucking thing to do in the world. I could literally have sent a fucking _letter_ , I still have your old address fucking _memorized_."

He shudders on a slow exhale.

"But I was just too much of a coward." He says miserably.

“You were _scared_ ,” Karkat whispers, pressing his cheek into Dave’s shoulder. “That’s different. You must have felt...so alone. Like there was no place you could turn to, nobody to help you. Not even me.”

Karkat turns his head to press a kiss to Dave’s shoulder. “It doesn’t matter now. You _did_ get out, and I’m—I’m fucking proud of you, Dave. And so _glad_. So glad you got away, that we found each other—“ he squeezes Dave’s knee again, “The rest of it doesn’t matter anymore. We’re together _now_ , we just gotta be happy with that, be grateful we even found each other at all.”

Dave swallows, drinking in the warmth of Karkat next to him, the touch of their skin pressing together.

(.....they're both still naked.

Well.

Whatever.)

"It _does_ still matter, though." Dave says quietly. "It's not just going to- to _go away_." He shakes his head. "I'm a walking collection of landmines, Karkat. I don't even know what will set me off."

He laughs sadly. "One time John tried to pull a prank on me in the fucking shower and I almost fucking choked him into unconsciousness before I could think and realize it was _him_."

“And he’s still one of your best friends,” Karkat says plainly, “because—and don’t tell him I ever said this, he would never let me live it down, I’m sure of it—John is a good person, he’s, uhh...he’s sweet. I bet he pulled pranks on you more than anyone, just to try and get you to laugh.”

Karkat gets into the bed properly, getting under the covers (which are easy to get because they’ve been kicked down to the end of the bed) and motions for Dave to join him. His body is so _heavy_ right now, his entire being aches like he’s a million years old, and all he wants right now is to lie beneath the covers and feel Dave’s warm body next to his.

Once Dave joins him under the sheets, Karkat rolls onto his side to face him. “I’m not going to chicken out of a relationship with you because you have _PTSD_ , Dave. I don’t care what kind of baggage you come with. I want to help you carry it. And if we’re able to lighten the load, drop a few bags off over time, then great. But that shit _takes time_ , babe. I want to be there with you for it.”

Dave huffs a little, but joins Karkat. "Yeah, you're right."

He admits, but then pauses.

Oh.

Huh.

Two fucking diagnosis in one day, huh? Dave looks at Karkat for a moment, a strange kind of disbelief bubbling through him.

" _I have PTSD_." He blurts, astonishment in his voice. "I- oh my god. Holy shit. Oh my fucking god I feel _stupid_ , of course I fucking do, why the hell did I never even _consider_ the idea before-" He runs his hands through his hair, gaze flicking away to stare off into the distance, some things _finally_ clicking together.

Karkat gives Dave a little, tired smile, scoffing a little. “Yeah, bud. You, uh, you kind of check off all the boxes, I’m afraid. It’s okay, a lot of people don’t even realize they have it, it’s just the body—“ Karkat shakes his head. “Okay, no, fuck—Jesus, at this rate I should ask Professor Lalonde for extra credit, I think I’m paying _too_ much attention in her class.”

Karkat scoots closer to Dave, burrowing in against his chest. “Great thing about finally getting a diagnosis, is that now that you finally know that your problems—at least _some_ of them—have a fucking _name_ , then you’ve got a place to attack them from. Oh, you have IBS and insomnia? Depression and anxiety, to boot? Well shit, my dude. Try these fucking remedies out!” Karkat says, “And it’s like this huge weight off your shoulders, like, wow, god, so I’m _not_ fucking crazy! At least, that’s how it was for me when I got help for my shit.”

Karkat kisses Dave on the chest. “Everyone’s broken, Dave. For different reasons, and some more than others, but—we all have our shit, you know? You’ve never judged me for mine. _Literally_. Christ, you used to _hang out with me in the bathroom_. Because you love me. Maybe a little too much,” Karkat huffs out a laugh, but quickly softens, “And I love you. So I’m not about to judge you for yours, either. So whatever the equivalent to hanging out in the bathroom is for you, I’ll do it. I want to be that for you.”

Dave huffs a little, shaking his head, his face going hot at Karkat's words, pressing a little closer to Karkat in return so he can tangle their legs together.

"Yeah, well, call it two for two." He teases. "Fucking Dr. Vantas over here, sorting out all my fucking nutcase issues. Your professor should _absolutely_ give you extra credit."

"Besides." Dave adds, starting to stroke his fingers gently over Karkat's hair. "Wasn't a big deal to hang out with you."

Honestly, he's not lying. It... really wasn't. It just seems like the natural extension of their relationship. Bros hang out with each other when they're needed. That includes in the bathroom. Even when it's sometimes bordering on an hour.

He dips his head and presses a kiss to the top of Karkat's head, trying to come up with words. "....thank you, though." He says quietly. "I don't know what the equivalent of it is, but. I want you here, with me." _Even if it's selfish._

Karkat’s eyes flutter closed as Dave’s fingers stroke through his hair, and he gives an appreciative hum. He just lets himself relish in the feeling, the lingering edges of his panic slowly getting plucked away, like he’s cutting off old guitar strings. The tension gets cut away, bit by bit, and then he’s restrung anew with every soft touch in his hair, every breath Dave takes. He presses his nose into Dave’s chest, breathing in his scent, letting it swallow up everything else, every other sensation. It’s grounding, it’s soothing, it’s comfort, it’s _home_.

Dave presses a kiss to the top of Karkat’s head and Karkat’s lips pull into a lazy smile. The smile grows at Dave’s words, and Karkat lifts his head to press a kiss to Dave’s chin.

“I want you with me, too,” Karkat murmurs, pressing more soft kisses along Dave’s jawline, “Want you to choose me, D, always. Be _greedy_ about it. Be selfish for me.”

_Be greedy about it_.

"I want to." Dave says softly, swallowing as Karkat presses soft, gentle kisses up his jawline. "I want... I want _you_." He blinks and has to bring a hand up to rub at his eyes as they sting. "I just... I don't know _how_."

His entire like he's had to think about other people first. Think about Bro, anticipate his moods, avoid his buttons and find his levers, everything always run through the filter of _Bro_.

And then there was Damara, with her rules and order and everything was _easier_ but it was still not... for Dave. Everything was still filtered through _someone else's desires_ first.

Even with Karkat, now, it feels like Dave should be thinking about _him_ first, trying to figure out what to do or say, trying to make _him_ happy first, and- and maybe that's not a _bad_ thing, but... Dave just doesn't know how to put _himself_ first.

Karkat continues his trail of kisses up Dave’s jaw, then kisses over both cheeks, his nose, then finally his mouth.

_ Kiss the poison out. _

_ Love him until it’s all he knows. _

Dave’s words break his heart. Dave doesn’t know how to be selfish. All he’s ever known is rules. Rules, repetition. Punishment. Karkat kisses Dave, soft and sleepy and sweet, because he still doesn’t know what to say. What can he tell Dave that would make this confusion disappear? Or at least, help to start clear the fog?

Karkat pulls away, bringing one hand up to stroke his thumb over Dave’s cheek. “You already have me,” he says softly, “That’s all you need to know.”

Maybe it was just that simple. Or, at least, that’s all it had to be. For now.

“I’m not going anywhere, so just...love me. And I’ll love you back. Always.” Karkat leans forward and presses another long kiss to Dave’s mouth when he feels his throat getting thick with emotion, then pulls away. “You don’t need to think about anything else.”

Dave admits he doesn't know how and Karkat kisses him, gentle and tender. Tells him to just _love him_.

"Okay." Dave whispers softly, his chest tight. "I'd say I won't think about anything else, but I absolutely will. But- I'll try."

 _I'll try because I love you_. Dave gently brushes hair away from Karkat's cheek.

"And I'll keep trying." He says. "I'll try over and over again, for you. I don't want to lose you. I love you so fucking much, Karkat." He leans in and kisses Karkat, long and gentle. "I'll be here as long as you'll have me." He says pulling back, mouths barely an inch apart.

"Which," he adds, humor bleeding into his voice, "I have from a reliable source, is going to be forever."

Karkat snakes his arms around Dave’s neck as they keep kissing slow and soft under the sheets, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“I’m gonna get you a ring as soon as I can,” Karkat promises, “then your forgetful ass can have a constant reminder. You can just look down at your hand and be like, _oh right, Karkat_ ** _does_** _love me_.”

Karkat uses his grip around Dave’s neck to pull him in close as he keeps kissing him, twisting onto his back and bringing Dave with him so that he’s pressed against his chest. Karkat makes a low, pleased hum that turns into a soft little moan as he runs his hands up Dave’s shoulders. Then up his neck until he’s cupping his hands at the back of Dave’s head, thumbs stroking back and forth behind his ears. Dave is _so_ warm, his lips and skin are so soft. He smells so _good_ , his own natural scent coming through the scent of Karkat’s bodywash and setting off sparks in Karkat’s brain.

Karkat runs the tip of his tongue along Dave’s lip and then nibbles on it gently before deepening the kiss. His body is a lead weight, his legs are still shuddering, feeling like they’re made of jello. He feels like he could sleep for a whole week—as long as Dave stayed in bed with him the whole time, too.

Karkat sighs against the kiss, open-mouthed, hot breath. He snakes his fingers through Dave’s hair as he rolls his hips. Despite everything, despite how heavy his body feels, how much he aches all over, Karkat still feels warm desire lapping at all his edges, creeping up from his belly into his chest, filling him up. Just the warm press of their bodies and their soft but deep kisses already has Karkat’s heart hammering in his chest, all his bones are tingling, and he can feel himself getting hard again.

“ _Dave_ ,” Karkat pulls away just enough to say Dave’s name in a pleading, desperate croon as he rolls his hips again, pushing his length against Dave’s thigh. “Want you inside me... _please, baby_...”

Dave grins at the idea. Having a ring to constantly look at and touch and remind himself of Karkat's promise of _forever_? That would definitely help him stay sorted out.

"Yeah, having a ring'd probably help." He murmurs, and absent-mindedly wondered if they could get rings off of like. Amazon or something.

Probably. They're broke college kids and Dave doesn't exactly want a _diamond_ so it's probably the cheapest option.

He doesn't voice this thought, though, because now Karkat is pulling him over and kissing him and touching him so softly in a way that stokes his arousal back to life. Dave braces himself on the bed and kisses Karkat back, so sweet and tender.

Dave abruptly realizes that for all the times they've fucked today... did they ever actually _make love?_ It's all been frantic and varying degrees of kinky and okay, yeah, that was all really really good and pretty fucking hot except for the mishap, but-

There's something appealing about just being so fucking _gentle_. Dave feels like he needs to be, after the trainwreck that just happened, so when Karkat rolls his hips up against him, Dave moans softly, his cock sparking back to life.

Karkat moans his name so prettily, so Dave ducks his head and presses kisses along his jaw, down his neck.

"Yeah, baby?" He breathes. "Alright, I can vibe with that." He laughs softly and shifts to be between Karkat's legs properly. "Gonna make you feel real good, baby." He smooths his hands down Karkat's sides, just _feeling_ him, before finding his thighs and hiking them up around his hips, lining himself up and gently sliding back into Karkat.

Dave runs his hands down Karkat’s sides, over his stomach, making Karkat shiver, his eyes fluttering. Then Dave is moving his legs to wrap around his hips—and Karkat sighs softly, Dave is so good, he’s _so good_ —and then he’s gently pressing himself back into Karkat and it’s a gentle, smooth glide. Karkat’s still worked open from before so Dave is able to bury himself inside without any resistance, and Karkat arches his back, his head lolling to the side as he moans, soft and _wanting_.

“ _D-Dave_...” Karkat practically _mewls_ , squeezing his thighs around Dave and pulling him by the shoulders to press their lips together.

Karkat pulls him in and Dave moans, pressing his mouth to Karkat's neck, breathing deep, letting the warmth of Karkat's body and his scent and his _touch_ chase away the lingering aches.

"Karkat..." Dave breathes and starts rocking, easy and tender. "Fuck, baby." He moans. "I love you so much," he presses a kiss to Karkat's jaw, "so much-" he captures Karkat's mouth in a kiss.

Dave is pressing soft kisses all over as he starts a slow, gentle rhythm, and Karkat doesn’t feel any sense of urgency or impatience. The slow rocking isn’t a tease, Karkat’s so overstimulated by this point the softest, featherlight touch of Dave’s fingertips as they caress Karkat’s face, the brush of his lips, his low voice—it all pierces into Karkat’s skin, lighting every one of his senses on fire.

For the first time all day Karkat is convinced that this isn’t a dream, that Dave is here and _real_ , that he isn’t about to vanish into smoke around Karkat’s fingers.

Karkat pulls away from their kiss as a long moan breaks past his lips as Dave presses all the way inside and grinds his hips against his.

“Dave, Dave,” he can’t stop saying his name. Every time he utters it, Dave only feels more solid around him. “Love you, D, so, _so_ much—missed you _so much_ —“

Karkat can feel his throat closing up, his eyes getting wet—fuck, fuck, he’s so sick of crying, he hates that he gets so goddamn emotional at the drop of a hat. He pulls one hand away from Dave with a Herculean amount of effort so he can quickly wipe at his eyes. He doesn’t _want_ to cry, not anymore, not _now_ —he knows these aren’t _bad_ tears, but he doesn’t want Dave to see, to get the wrong idea. He quickly scrubs the first beading tears away and then pulls Dave down for a messy, desperate kiss, whimpers muffled by their mouths.

Soft is good, soft is so fucking good- Dave doesn't want to be hard, doesn't want to be rough right now, he just wants him and Karkat and the gentle press of their bodies together- fuck, he'd be happy just gently _grinding_ and kissing Karkat, just holding him in his goddamn arms, and Karkat feels the same way because he's just saying Dave's name over and over.

"Shh, baby, it's alright-" Dave presses kisses to Karkat's cheek as Karkat wipes his eyes. "I know." He breathes as Karkat pulls him in for a kiss, because he does- he knows Karkat isn't sad, it's just-

It's just so fucking _much_. having Kakat here, getting to touch him and fuck so slow and gentle, just getting-

Just getting to _feel_.

Karkat’s already _so_ close, and he supposes that’s to be expected—he’d been right on the edge when he and Dave had abruptly stopped earlier, so it only makes sense that in this hypersensitive, overstimulated state he’s in that he’d flash right to edge within only a few thrusts of Dave’s hips.

He could absolutely cum just from Dave inside him right now, he doesn’t feel the need to have him or Dave touch himself at all—and he likes it that way, if he were to touch himself right now he’d _burst_ , and he doesn’t _want_ to, not yet, not _yet_ —

_ I waited so long for this, please, please, just let me have this a little bit longer,  _ **_ please _ ** _ — _

Dave shushes him gently and kisses his cheek as tears spill down—he’s not upset, Dave says he _knows_ , it’s okay, Dave is so good—he’s the only one who’s ever known him this much, known him so completely, right down to his soul—he’s so good, _god_ , he’s _so_ good—

“So _good_ ,” Karkat whines, his voice breaking around the word. He runs his hands through Dave’s hair and starts to roll his hips up to match Dave’s thrusts. _Fuck_. Karkat’s head rolls back and he gasps as they move together, perfectly in sync, every thrust hitting deep inside him, brushing his sweet spot every time. He’s so close, he’s so close, not yet, not yet, not fucking _yet_ —

“C-close, baby,” Karkat moans, and his brow furrows softly as he bites his lip, “Don’t—wanna—n-not _yet_ , wanna _stay_ , D, not yet, _not yet_ —“

Karkat whines and starts rocking up against Dave and thats _so fucking good_ , so sweet and perfect, the two of them moving together in sync, their bodies perfectly aligned and Dave has to blink back tears of his own.

Everything's finally settling into place, the two of them _finally_ together in the most perfect sense, nothing but sweat and skin separating them and even _then_ it feels like Dave's heart is trying to press through his chest, trying to reach Karkat's, like they could connect and fuse and just be _one_.

"Me too, baby," Dave breathes, as Karkat whines about not wanting to cum yet, "me too, baby, me too-" He presses in and then stills, trembling, pressing kisses over Karkat's neck. "Wanna make this last, want to keep you here-" He moans, waiting for the rising tide of orgasm to recede. "Keep you like this, so fucking perfect, baby." Dave breathes.

Karkat's hands on him are hot and perfect and anywhere he touches feels alight and _alive_ in a way he hasn't felt like in-

in _years._

Dave presses deep, _deep_ inside Karkat and then goes still, trembling against him as he holds back his own release, and Karkat squeezes his eyes shut and whimpers—don’t cum, don’t cum, _don’t cum_ , not yet not yet _notyetnotyetnotyet_ —

Dave’s lips on Karkat’s neck feel like licks of flame, scorching hot, burning Karkat’s skin with every hot press. Karkat wonders if it’ll leave little burn marks all over his body, there’s no way this heat isn’t scalding his flesh for real, it’s so much, so _much_ —

Dave is meeting Karkat right where he is; like he’s reading his mind, he can tell what Karkat is trying to convey even when Karkat can’t get the words out properly.

Dave starts to move even _slower_ now, rocking his hips back barely even halfway before pressing back in with a gentle grind. And Karkat matches his pace, curling his back with each small thrust, clinging onto Dave for dear life.

“So good, you’re so good, you’re so _good_ , Dave, _Dave_ ,” Karkat gasps, pressing his head into Dave’s shoulder as he clenches his eyes shut tightly, using what little strength he has left to hold his orgasm back, make this last just a _little_ longer, not yet, _not yet_ —it’s greedy, they’ve done so much already, it’s so fucking _greedy_ to beg for even one more _second_ of this pleasure—

But Dave wants it, too. He’s being selfish _with him_. And Karkat wants to be greedy forever, about everything, if it means Dave will, too—

“Baby, oh— _fuck_ —yes, baby, _Dave-eee_ — _yes_!” Karkat cries, bucking his hips harder now, he can’t help it, he wants this to last but he can’t help it, it’s so much, it’s so much and still not enough, he’s greedy, _so greedy_ —

_ Be greedy with me. Take me,  _ **_ all of me _ ** _ , as much as you can, please. _

Karkat holds him and trembles and pants and Dave rocks so slowly, so so slowly into him, he feels so fucking dizzy, he never wants this moment to end, wants to have Karkat here forever and ever and ever and _ever-_

Dave presses his mouth to the side of Karkat's head, breathing rough as Karkat babbles about how _good_ Dave is, each word sinking in like a droughted land drinks in rain, and it takes everything he has to keep rocking to keep this slow and soft and not buck hard, not fuck deep, to not just _cum_.

He wants this. He _wants this_ , wants this love, this love is _theirs_ and no one else can touch it, not the ghosts in his head, not the hands clawing after him, not even himself, self-sabotaging and destructive. Their love is solid fucking steel- and with enough work they'll turn it into something beautiful.

Karkat bucks up harder against him, moaning louder, and that's enough to get Dave to pick it up, to fuck a little more insistently, grinding hard with each thrust in, wanting to leave his mark on Karkat, wanting to make sure he'll never, ever ever _ever_ forget the feeling of Dave inside of him.

"Karkat-" He moans, "Fuck- I'm- I'm close, baby, I don't wanna stop-"

“ _Don’t_ stop,” Karkat croons, nails running down Dave’s shoulders, “Don’t stop, baby—gggod, _fffuck_!”

Dave starts snapping his hips harder against Karkat, grinding down even _deeper_ and Karkat moans _loud_ , back coming right off the bed. His whole body is on fire—tingling, _perfect_ fire, Dave’s moans fill his ears and sink down to his bones, driving him crazy. He wants to stay here forever, wishes they could keep rewinding and playing this moment again and again and again—

The only thing that allows Karkat to finally let go is the knowledge that he and Dave have all the time in the world, now. There’s going to be so many days for this, they can come together like this as much as they want (and, _oh_ , they will most certainly _want_ ).

Karkat knows that the shadows in Dave’s mind won’t be banished in just this one day. It’s going to take time, and patience, and effort. But Karkat wants to be there for all of it, all of Dave’s good days and his bad days. _Especially_ his bad days, so he can help Dave through them, give him the comfort and security and safety he’s gone so long without.

If just these last 24 hours had anything to say for it, there were going to be bumps in the road. It was inevitable. But it was worth it, to get to the good. Because when they were good, it was _so good_ , better than Karkat had ever dreamed he would ever feel again.

He hadn’t noticed how grey and listless his world and life had truly become until he saw that flash of candy-red, and suddenly his world set on fire in every way imaginable. And Karkat never wants to douse the flames, he wants to pour gasoline onto them and let it burn, watch it consume everything around him until his whole world is _bright_ and filled with warmth and light.

“ _Faster_ , baby, please,” Karkat begs, squeezing Dave close.

He can’t hold on anymore, his body betraying him. So they might as well ride this out as much as they can while it lasts, until they’re both finally spent.

Karkat turns his head to press kiss after kiss to Dave’s cheek, moving across until he gets to Dave’s ear. He bites and pulls at Dave’s earlobe, groaning hard and loud as Dave _grinds_ rough and deep inside him.

“Come on, baby, _that’s it_ , cum for me, cum for— _mmm_ ,” Karkat pants, clutching at Dave’s hair, “y-yes, _yes_! Oh, _fuck_ —god— _Dave_ , cum for me, baby—I’ll meet you there, cum for me, _cum for me_ —“

_Don't stop_ , Karkat orders, his nails leaving _achingly_ good trails down Dave's shoulders, and because Dave would literally do anything for Karkat, he _doesn't_. He wants to cum so bad, but he wants this to last forever, but Karkat is telling him _don't stop_ so he _doesn't-_

God. Nothing can ever compare to this. Not all the riches in the world, not all the brightest silks and the shining golds and the gleaming lakes and breathtaking mountains can come anywhere near _close_ to the depth of the _wonder_ and burning love in his chest.

It's not a torch- it's a blazing _bonfire_ in their chests, burning away the shadows and casting the light- all of the secrets and pain and clinging fears- they'll drag them into the light and set them ablaze, use them as fuel to keep each other warm, curling together in the cold, snow of the world.

They don't have to do anything they don't want to, they don't have to _be_ anything they don't want to, they just have to hold each other and _love_ each other.

Bro made him a sword. Damara made him a knight.

Karkat made him a **_king_**.

Dave can feel the ghost of the crown of love, settling into his hair as Karkat kisses and bites and _moans_ , and _I'll meet you there-_

They'll meet each other. Reaching out again and again as many times as they need.

"I'm already here with you, baby-" Dave gasps, and Karkat is telling him to _cum_ so he grinds in, hard and deep, finally letting go, "right here, not going- hah- not going _anywhere_ -"

He moans, curling his arms around Karkat and hauling them _up_ , kneeling on the bed with Karkat's entire weight on his legs as he kisses Karkat so deep, holding him tight, jerking his hips up into Karkat as he cums, grinding hard and deep.

"Love you." He gasps. "Love you, love you, _love you-_ "

Dave curls his arms underneath Karkat’s back and _pulls him up_ , and Karkat lets out a small noise of surprise that quickly melts into a long groan of pleasure because the change of angle is _delicious_. Dave is buried to the hilt deep, _deep_ inside of him, and as Dave jerks his hips upwards Karkat’s entire body _lurches_.

“ _Ohh_ , fuckfuck _fuck_ —“ Karkat practically _yells_ and then Dave pulls him in for a deep kiss, cutting off his sounds, it chokes off into a muffled noise that’s half-sob, half-moan. Karkat clings to Dave as tight as he can, his arms in a vice grip around his neck, breaking their kiss and burying his head into Dave’s shoulder as he moans so hard and rough he’s _sobbing_.

He feels Dave’s cock twitch and pulse, spasming as Dave cums hot and deep inside him. And Dave is gasping out one _love you_ after another as he grinds his hips up into Karkat as hard as he can, holding Karkat so close they could phase into one. Karkat feels fresh tears come to his eyes, it’s all so much, so much, _so fucking much_ , and with a broken moan he finally cums, painting both their stomachs.

Karkat wants to say it back, wants to say _I love you, I love you_ at the top of his lungs but when he opens his mouth not even a moan comes out anymore. He just holds Dave close, shuddering as a few aftershocks ripple through him, as he gasps helplessly for air. He rests his cheek on Dave’s shoulder, eyes closed, feeling a pounding in his ears he isn’t sure is his own heartbeat or Dave’s. Maybe it’s both.

Karkat’s arms go slack as he loosens his grip around Dave, lifting his head off Dave’s shoulder with an extreme amount of effort. He kisses the corner of Dave’s mouth, missing his mark, his eyelids so heavy he can’t open his eyes to see where to go, but Dave turns his head and kisses him full on the mouth and Karkat gives a small, contented hum. They kiss a few times, slow and lazily, before Karkat pulls away with a sigh and then _collapses_ backwards into the mattress.

He’s covered in sweat, chest still heaving for breath, he feels hot all over. His body feels heavy yet also incredibly _light_ all at once, as though he could float up to the ceiling like a strange lead balloon.

Dave is quick to join him, flopping down on his back beside Karkat, and Karkat rolls his head limply to the side to look at him. He’s _glistening_ in sweat, his hair is sticking out in all directions, some of his bangs are plastered to his forehead in dark blond rivulets. His mouth hangs open as he pants like a dog on a summer day, his face flushed, chest rising and falling with large but laboured gasps for air.

Karkat thinks he’s never seen Dave look more gorgeous.

“W- _wow_...” Karkat finally manages after they lay there for a minute, collecting their breath.

Not exactly profound but it’s the best he’s got at the moment. He’s completely blissed out, his brain in a complete fog. Forget this morning— _this_ was the best sex Karkat had ever had.

With a soft grunt of exertion, Karkat manages to roll onto his side, pressing kisses up Dave’s upper arm, then a longer one on the ball of his shoulder, before planting his cheek back into the pillows. Karkat searches his brain for something to say, but when he opens his mouth all that comes out is, “ _Wowww_ ,” again and—yep, alright, talking is officially cancelled, he’s clearly way too far gone.

He chuckles sleepily at his own stupid comment, scooching in so he can press himself against Dave’s side, his eyes closed as he peppers little kisses to Dave’s shoulder, a little smile tugging at his lips.

There’s nowhere else in the world Karkat would rather be.

The two of them collapse to the bed and Dave feels like he's run a fucking marathon. His heart is pounding so goddamn hard in his chest he's surprised it hasn't just _stopped_ , given up the ghost, kicked the bucket. Yesterday, he had been hard pressed to even think of a moment that had even gotten his heartbeat mildly jogging, let alone _racing_. Everything had been just a dull grey slog without a moment of color.

But now- now he's got Karkat at his side and the world is _bright_ , the world is fucking beautiful, the world is _colorful_ again, and it's all because of this incredible, _incredible_ man who walks and breathes and _lives_ love and care. Dave can't be worth it- but _Karkat_ thinks he is-

and isn't that enough?

If you can't love yourself, someone else can do it for you. Someone else can love you and patch all the cracks in your heart so that you can go through and seal it up and make it whole.

Dave might be self-sabotaging, but he has a feeling that Karkat will stand outside his door at fucking 3 AM with a cement mixer and shout at Dave to let him in so he can go to work. Dave made the mistake of destroying their relationship once- he won't do it again.

He wants this, wants to keep this soft, gentle moment and put it in a bottle and keep it on his shelf, but he _doesn't have to_ , because with Karkat at his side, he can have it over and over and over. He can wake up and reach out and find Karkat, next to him, on the phone, over chat- he can say things like _good morning_ and _hi, babe_ , and _I love you_ and _stay with me_. He can reach for Karkat and find him _every time_ because Karkat says things like _forever_ and _I'll always want you_ and _Loving you was always the easy part_.

God.

Dave doesn't know how to put it into words. Don't know how to describe the _magnitude_ of the feels in his chest. The furious desire to stay and work and _be better_ for Karkat.

As he curls against Karkat, he knows this.

There's nowhere he'd rather be. The press of skin against his, the soft kisses on his shoulder, the curve of Karkat's mouth, the scent of his hair, their soft, sleepy breathing intermingling, it all comes together to sing a deep note in Dave's chest, grounding him, tethering him to this moment, to the man in his arms.

Karkat makes Dave want to _try_. He makes Dave want to sink to his knees and be _better_ , want to reach out and ask _Karkat, tell me how to be selfish, how to be better, how to be worthy of you, how to_ ** _love_** _you, how to love_ ** _myself_** _-_

And... isn't _that_ enough? The desire to better himself for someone else's sake? Isn't that love? This morning his world was grey, and now it's full of color again. It's full of the desire to reach and _change_ and to _be more_ and to finally open the windows and look out and say _hello, you beautiful bastard, I've been waiting for you for so long, you're finally_ ** _here_** _, come see what I've been doing-_

Karkat is a steady, solid weight in his arms. Karkat is an anchor. Karkat is a fucking hot air balloon ready to lift him away. Karkat is- someone who Dave is probably putting too much expectation on, but Karkat says _be selfish_ and Dave wants that, wants to be selfish and keep Karkat forever and

Karkat

said

 _yes_.

And..

Well,

Isn't _that_ enough?

**Author's Note:**

> The authors of this fic can be found on twitter!
> 
> Dave is [@LPSunnyBunny](http://www.twitter.com/LPSunnyBunny)!
> 
> Karkat is [@jGillotto](http://www.twitter.com/jGillotto)!


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